


Ignite the Stars

by Jenna_Nicole



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien Agreste Is Sunshine, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Fluff, Adrien is Luke Skywalker, Adrinette | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Alternate Universe - Star Wars Setting, Bad Parent Gabriel Agreste, F/M, Ladrien | Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Ladynoir | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng as Ladybug, Lots of Bustier, Marichat | Adrien Agreste as Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Marinette is Chat Noir's Jedi Princess, Miraculous Ladybug Love Square, Multi, Sentimonster (Miraculous Ladybug), Star Wars AU, makes sense if you don't watch star wars, the Miraculous exist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenna_Nicole/pseuds/Jenna_Nicole
Summary: Princess Marinette was sixteen years old when she was gifted the Ladybug Miraculous and the power of creation. It has been thrust upon herself, as well as the new holder of the Cat Miraculous, to bring the formidable Lord Hawkmoth to his knees and restore the balance to the Force.A Lovesquare Star Wars AU
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Emilie Agreste/Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth, Gabriel Agreste | Papillon | Hawk Moth/Nathalie Sancoeur, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Sabine Cheng & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 20
Kudos: 42





	1. Prologue: A long, long time ago…

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't been able to get the Star Wars AU out of my head, so may I present to you...Ignite the Stars.  
> Perfect for miraculous fans who love star wars and miraculous fans who have never watched a single minute. The plot follows the original trilogy, but it is not identical. I will definitely add some surprises. Lots of changes but the same Star Wars heart. But get ready for your favorite love square...in space.  
> I plan on updating every Tuesday.  
> May the (miraculous) force be with you!

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. *  **Prologue** * . 

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A long, long time ago…

...a group of individuals sat together, war-torn and beaten with exhaustion, carrying the weight of many galaxies going mad in their memories. The smell of smoke still clung to their clothing, just as the ghost of their frightened eyes hid behind emotionless expressions. In the Alderaan palace, strong and marble, they knew not where to start, each clinging to the life they were so accustomed to understanding. 

Former master, but now only a woman, Bustier brushed her fingers over the ring pressed in her hand, her heart racing at the thought of her former friend, brother even, near-death and suffering in the ashes of Mustafar. His rage turned to frantic pleading and the sudden glimmer of remorse passed through Gabriel’s eyes just as Bustier pulled the ring off her brother’s finger. And then pulling away, letting go, as Mustafar crashed down over him. 

The ring still stung the palm of her hand, like the jewel still remained on its holder's finger. 

Bustier’s other hand still felt the frigid hand of Emilie, weary strength pressed into her palm, her shock struck eyes searching the room for Gabriel as Bustier lied and told her that her husband was dead. Weak denial clouded her eyes as she promised the Jedi Gabriel’s goodness, wishfully believing, slowly, as her body stilled, accepting. She shook her head because it couldn’t be, but even Emilie must have known deep in her bones that her husband was dead in heart and soul. So her eyes darkened, and she knew, her mind moving to her son. She met the eyes of the stranger in the doorway, with a final wish, saying, “watch over Adrien.” Her hand lost its grip, and a new coldness met Caline’s fingers as Emilie lost her breath. 

She had turned to find a medical droid, holding out a newborn baby boy to her. She breathed, her mind ripped to shreds at the thought of all of this, all in one day, all to hell. And now she held him, Adrien, her responsibility, while her brother lay in ashes and her sister took her last breath beside her. 

Now in Alderaan, Master Fu was the first to speak, knowing if he didn’t, nobody would. “Gabriel is living,” he said, a tremor in his voice that neither of his companions would ever expect from him. “This isn’t over.” 

The fate of the galaxy was in the hands of these three. Master Fu, Sabine Cheng, and Caline Bustier. The aftershock of their tragedies had no choice but to be put on hold, as it was up to them to restore the balance, protect the miraculous, and be sure Gabriel would never find his son. 

“Send Emilie’s body to her home planet,” Fu said solemnly, his words directed at Bustier. “To her family, but be sure…” he paused, his mind still racing at the impact of the thousands dying even as they sat. “She must appear pregnant. Everyone must believe she lost the child.” 

Bustier nodded, opening her hand and gazing down at the ring. 

Fu nodded in response, continuing. “Take Adrien to Gabriel’s stepbrother, on Tatooine. Keep the ring and give it to him when he comes of age.” 

Bustier resolved a breath, knowing her place was set in stone. 

“I can take the ladybug jewel,” Sabine spoke up, understanding the importance of the separation. “Thomas and I expect a daughter. We will pass it down to her when she is old enough. I will teach her.” 

“Are we not to train them as their father should have been?” Caline asked. 

“No,” Fu said. “Wait until they are ready for the responsibility. We cannot make the same mistakes. The Force will bring them to us in time. Until then, we watch over them and wait for the right time.” 

The room nodded in unison, knowing that this must work. If the plan was not a success and the miraculous were found, the Jedi would be no more, and the future of the galaxy would be in the grip of the Emperor and his new apprentice. The power must stay hidden until the children could harness the strength, free the galaxy, and bring back the balance. 

“Then it is settled,” Fu said finally, his eyes tired. “We must disappear.” 

And so the three Jedi went their separate ways, each knowing things as they were would never return but understanding that they had a purpose to fulfill. Bustier set off to Tatooine, to deliver Adrien to his aunt and uncle, where she would watch from afar to be sure the child remained safe. Thomas and Sabine would raise their baby girl with the hope of preparing her for the future with the expertise of her mother. And Master Fu would retire to Dagoba where he would wait for the day when he was needed again to perhaps assist the next generation of Jedi. 

It was the way they must go. 

Before leaving her friends forever, Caline turned to Fu, one last question on her mind. “Emilie possessed the peacock miraculous. Tell me, is that what killed her?” 

Fu’s head dropped downward, one final defeated sigh. “One can never know for sure. I fear Gabriel was ignorant of its power. The Emperor, however, was not. ” 

Caline sighed. “He wanted Emilie dead. He knew it would cement Gabriel’s fate.” 

The old Jedi didn’t comment, but they were both painfully aware of the Emperor’s intentions. 

“May the Force be with you, Master Bustier.” 

Caline sank inside a bit, holding Adrien to her chest. “Goodbye, Master Fu. May the Force also be with you.” 

She walked to the gate, knowing she may never look into the eyes of a fellow Jedi Knight again. 

“May the force be with us all,” she whispered, boarding the ship and sailing away toward the twin suns of Tatooine, with an infant held close to her chest and Emilie’s loyal creation watching over the child fiercely. 

  
  


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Behind those twin suns, perhaps lightyears away, arose Hawkmoth. A tall figure of dark purple, cloaked in the shadow, with a pained grin. He moved slowly, achingly, still burning alive despite the cool leather that held his damaged skin together. He looked unsure of his steps as if he doubted his decision to get caught in the flame of darkness. 

“Where is Emilie?” 

His question was directed at the hunched over man in front of him, who had a sheet of ice for a face and ten icicles as fingers. Dead eyes found energy at his apprentice’s question, a sly smile ghosting his thin lips. 

“Is she safe?” 

The newly risen emperor looked pleased, relishing in Gabriel’s dependence, with eyes licking at the control the fallen Jedi placed in his cold hands. It was glorious, just to let him ask, only to know the pleasure he would find when he gave the lie of an answer. The lie that would pull Gabriel completely into the shadow. 

“Please, tell me she is alright. Tell me we can still save her from death.” 

The Emperor slipped closer to his protege, reaching to place a cool hand on his wrist. “It seems…” he whispered, catching Gabriel’s icy eyes when his smile lifted. “It seems, in an effort to save her, you did quite the opposite. Do you remember what you did to her?” 

His eyes went erratic, focusing solely on the Emperor’s pleasure and the lie that burned in the room. “No, I didn’t...I didn’t kill her. She was hurt, but she was alive. I felt it.” 

“I’m afraid, in your anger…”

“No!” Hawkmoth shouted, silencing even the phantom menace with the sudden boom of a voice. It split the air, trembling the walls and the old droids, bursting open pipes and splitting the floorboards. The Emperor’s pleasure was boiling over. 

His apprentice approached him, burning eyes steady as he moved. “No, your majesty. It was the broach. The broach you promised would keep her safe. A lie, your excellency. A lie to ensure my loyalty. And despite it all, my loyalty is still yours.” 

“I’m glad you understand your place.” 

Hawkmoth felt his power grow with each movement, despite the pain, he grew stronger with each aching step, feeding on his rage. Feeding on his hatred for fate, if nothing else, his boots heavy on the cracked floor. And then, as loyalty lit his eyes, pulling himself to kneel, it passed, and he found his gloved hands on the old man’s throat.

“I hope you’ll understand yours.” 

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	2. Opening Crawl: A New Hope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away… 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 1 will be up tomorrow!

**19 years later**

  
  


**_A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…_ **

  
  


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_ It is a period of civil war. Rebel spaceships, striking from a hidden base,  _

_ have won their first victory against the evil Galactic Empire.  _

_ During the battle, Rebel spies managed to steal the secret plans to the Empire’s ultimate weapon, the DEATH STAR,  _

_ an armored space station with enough power to destroy an entire planet.  _

_ Pursued by the Empire’s sinister agents, Princess Marinette races home aboard her starship,  _

_ custodian of the stolen plans that can save her people  _

_ and restore freedom to the galaxy...  _

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	3. Chapter One: "Marinette and Her Blaster, Against the Entire Empire"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Her kwami protested, looking at Marinette nervously. “What are you doing, Marinette?” she asked, the fear clear in Tikki’s voice. “You’re sending me away?” 
> 
> “I have to,” Marinette said, cupping her hands around the kwami. “Mayura will capture me, Tikki. I can’t let the Miraculous get into the hands of her and Lord Hawkmoth.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What's important is the action. You don't have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow."  
> \- Carrie Fisher

_19 Years After the Fall of the Jedi_

_[Opening Crawl: A New Hope](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23416735/chapters/56400934) _

**Chapter 1**

Her starship is minuscule in size compared to the beastly destroyer keeping on her tail, it’s beams of fiery blasts tossing her father’s ship around like a measly speck of dust. Herself, her fellow comrades, and the small vessel would have been obliterated within the first moment the destroyer emerged from hyperspace if she didn’t carry valuable intel, just a piece of nothing in her hand, able to perhaps bring the Empire to its knees. 

For the first time in quite a while, the Empire feared the misfit band of rebels, as well as Thomas and Sabine’s darling princess, who was becoming a thorn in the side they hadn’t seen coming. They had little idea how deep her fingerprints went in the roots of the rebellion. And they had little idea what else she possessed that the Emperor would kill to have at his disposal. If he only knew. 

Marinette pushed her back to the corridor wall, her blaster pushed snug against her chest, fingers trembling, her heartbeat more severe than the pull of the tractor beam, the tug at the starship, the upcoming boom that would be heard as the Imperials marched aboard. She was admittedly terrified, to the point of a tied up stomach, uneasy, and tangled. A mess. A part of her wondered if she could do this without her mother guiding her steps, teaching her how to harness her power, always with gentle encouragement, and always patient. But here she was now, just her own self, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, with nothing but a blaster. 

She knew well enough how dangerous it was to use her Miraculous if the time wasn’t right. It was much safer to be captured now as the Princess of Alderaan than it was to be captured as the Miraculous holder of the Ladybug. 

So for now, it would just be Marinette and her blaster, against the entire Empire. 

She felt the ground turn beneath her as the starship was suddenly being sucked upward, the tractor beam knocking the soldiers about, all in formation to protect Alderaan’s princess. Marinette thudded forward, her mind racing at the thought of being captured in chains, perhaps at the mercy of Lady Mayura, or even worse, like Lord Hawkmoth himself. The cold thought led her mind to the kwami hidden under her dress, Tikki’s kind eyes looking up toward her now, reassuring. 

Transforming now was still too dangerous. If capture was imminent, Tikki would have to hide away, or better yet escape, and get help. 

She was running out of time. She needed to conduct a plan, and fast. So, with every nervous breath, she pulled herself into an empty room, just as the sound of blaster fire emerged from the nearby entrance, time nearly out. 

  
  


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In the sudden silence, as the last defending rebel gave up the ghost, the blaster fire became mute. The smoke began to clear in the corridor, and the gap in the door was filled by a figure. And casually, as if this sight was standard, the cloaked figure strolled through, her blue lips tugging into a frigid smirk. Her eyes quickly assessed the fallen soldiers before her gaze furiously looking for the girl responsible. The girl who had the key to the Empire’s death. The remaining stormtroopers flanked her, heeding to the gaze of her eyes, as she led the battalion toward the rear of the ship. 

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Marinette had recorded the holographic message as quickly as she could manage, instructing R2D2 to send word to the person Sabine had always instructed her to contact if an emergency would arise such as this. It was simple and to the point, but it was the only hope she could see as she heard the cry of another fallen soldier, the noise growing closer to where she hid. 

The next thing she did was riskier, but it was the safest thing she could do at this moment. 

She removed her earrings, placing them in one of R2’s many secret compartments, instructing the droid a second time what needed to be done. 

Her kwami protested, looking at Marinette nervously. “What are you doing, Marinette?” she asked, the fear clear in Tikki’s voice. “You’re sending me away?” 

“I have to,” Marinette said, cupping her hands around the kwami. “Mayura will capture me, Tikki. I can’t let the Miraculous get into the hands of her and Lord Hawkmoth.” 

Tikki watched her, understanding, but still worried about her holder. She didn’t want to imagine a world where Marinette was killed. Especially after just becoming Tikki’s ladybug. 

“Find Master Bustier.” 

The kwami didn’t have time to protest. Before she could, Marinette had managed to get her, the battle station plans, R2D2, as well as C-3PO into the escape pod, just mere moments, seconds, before the time would have cut too close, and Mayura would get her hands on the ladybug Miraculous and the only hope for the flickering rebellion. 

  
  


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Marinette continued to tiptoe around the rear regions of the ship’s interior, her blaster still close to her as stormtroopers frantically searched the premises for the princess in the pale pink gown, all in response to Mayura’s commands. She moved slowly, her nervousness temporarily lessened by the adrenaline of a possible brush of death, her mind at ease because of the Miraculous now sailing far away from the hands of Mayura and her superior master. 

If she had counted right, 3 troopers bustled in through the corridor in deliberate formation, their armor loud enough to give the princess a fair warning. To her great displeasure though, she was running out of starship to hide in, about to back her way into a small area with no exit.

Marinette let one of her hands brush over an ear, taking in the lack of the earrings. The earrings that she hadn’t removed since her sixteenth birthday. On that summer night when her mother had pulled her to the side, with a steady hand guiding her to the moonlit terrace.

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“What is it, Maman?” she asked, sliding the door open to the view of the kingdom. It was just a sea of pearly white buildings, tall and towering, blindfolding her view from the chaos in the streets. The planet almost seemed at peace, despite the poisonous disease a new wave of mindless troops were spreading to the citizens. Even Alderaan, fought for without break by King Dupain, would eventually slip through his noble fingers, as the Empire was simply too strong to resist forever. 

“You have another present.” 

She didn’t need another present. Guilt had been sitting uncomfortably in her stomach for the vast majority of the day, growing heavier as she unwrapped each jewel, or fragrance, or gown. Her closet hardly had room for another gift-wrapped box, despite her possessing a closet much larger than any Alderaan citizen’s home. “I don’t want another present.” 

“I know,” Sabine said carefully, taking her daughter’s wrist and leading her to the edge of the terrace so that they could see the city clearer. “It’s written on your face.” 

“Give it all away.” 

“Okay,” her mother said, drawing away a strand of hair from her daughter’s eyes. “If that is what you want.” 

Marinette sank into her mother’s side, breathing heavily. “How can I accept these gifts when there are people starving?” 

Sabine smiled softly, wrapping her arm around her daughter’s back. “I wish I could turn them away. I really do.” 

Marinette stirred, leaning against the railing and looking at her mother squarely. “What is it, then? More jewelry?” 

Her mother nodded slowly, smiling at her daughter with no doubt that the box hidden in her cloak pocket would not be given by mistake. Her daughter was the chosen. “Yes, actually. But I think you might like this one.” 

Marinette groaned. 

“Come sit with me,” she said, leading her daughter to the open space of the terrace which was reserved for morning meditation. The earlier hours, to Marinette’s initial dismay, were meant for the training. Long hours of _learning about_ the Force were finally becoming hours of _learning how_ to use it. And Marinette excelled in ways even Sabine hadn’t in her youth. She was focused, determined, and open-minded. Master Cheng had never seen a young Jedi so dedicated to the cause. 

“We never train at night.” 

“From now on, we must. I need to be sure you’re ready for the war that’s coming.” 

Marinette sighed, pushing any protest away and nodding. “Okay, anything to free the people.” 

Sabine smiled, pulling the wooden box from her cloak. “Well, then this will help.” 

Marinette took the box carefully, glancing at her mother for reassurance before pulling on the latch and swinging the lid open. 

She hadn’t been prepared for the burst of pink light that spilled across the terrace. Nor was she prepared for the bright blue eyes of the red creature that was peering at her pale complexion. She trembled, looking past the creature to her mother, eyes wide with wonder. “Maman?” 

“Don’t be scared. I know this might seem a bit strange to you,” said the red creature, slowly lowering to the ground in between Marinette and Sabine. 

“What are you?” the Princess had to ask, reaching out to touch the side of the little creature’s cheek. 

“I’m a kwami,” she said, eyes shining. “And my name is Tikki.” 

“Go on,” Sabine told her, motioning to the box of earrings Marinette had let fall into her lap. 

“Earrings?” she said, brushing her hand across the jewel. 

“It’s called a Miraculous. The holder of this jewel possesses the power of creation. Now go ahead, sweetheart. Put them on. You have a lot to learn.” 

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Marinette had spent the better part of her childhood learning how to fight, sparring with her mother most mornings before leaving for the academy, her aching bones from training being hidden by a nice dress and a smile. Even her best friend Alya had no idea what Marinette was capable of. But the training had been intense. Kindly guided, sure, but not easy. Marinette was ready by the time her mother handed her the Miraculous. 

Now, as Marinette stood behind a short wall, her highness officially cornered, she knew it was her time to show what she could do without the power of the ladybug, without enhanced Force powers, and without the leadership of her mother’s voice. 

So she breathed, tightening her grip on her father’s blaster, and throwing herself into the corridor, blaster fire cluttering her view, as the six stormtroopers possessed about the same speed as the princess. 

She pulled herself away, the troopers still stunned by her intrusion, with a sigh of relief falling from her lips as she made her way through. 

“There she is,” a trooper said behind her, causing her momentary confidence to waver, her entire life depending on her finger on the blaster’s trigger, turning toward the trooper and shooting with the benefit of speed much more than the benefit of accuracy. 

She had hit all but one, which came from behind, then followed by about twenty more stormtroopers. Marinette sighed to herself, continuing to fire, knowing that there wasn’t an actual plan in her mind to escape the vessel. No matter how many troopers she took down, there was no way she was going to escape the ship, not with Lady Mayura aboard. 

So in one swift, perhaps careless moment, Marinette lets her guard down, to turn and run, knowing the possibility of not being hit was as small as the chance that the Miraculous would successfully be delivered to Master Bustier. It was all a chance, but one that Marinette had to take. 

She got farther than she expected, but she felt the stun of one lucky trooper piercing her back as she turned the corner, her strength failing as she met the ground with her knees, the rest of her collapsing on top. 

Above the fallen princess, a trooper turned to his fellow soldier, with a surge of relief overtaking him, knowing he may perhaps live another day under Mayura’s wrath. “She’ll be alright,” he said, scooping up the princess, “Inform Lord Hawkmoth that we have a prisoner.” 

  
  


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Flanked by white armor and steadily held blasters, the princess keeps her chin up, masking the initial terror of when she came to. It is the mantra she has been echoing since near infancy, to be the brave princess, to never let them see her falter. And she would not falter. She couldn’t afford to. 

Liquid soft features transform to steel as she edges the corner, her chest tightening as she meets Mayura with utter contempt, no shuddering breath or uneasy steps as she leads her escorts, commanding even her enemy’s footsteps. 

Without a moment of hesitation, she narrows cold blue eyes at the woman before her. “Mayura,” she states simply as if the title isn’t even a name. “I should have known you were behind this. How bold of you.” She takes one step forward despite the blasters pushed to her sides, letting her body snap into the diplomat she was born to be, her voice rising from the pitiful child to the holder of the room. “The Imperial Senate will not stand for this. When they get word that you’ve attacked Alderaan’s royalty on a diplomatic mission-”

“Don’t pretend to be surprised, Princess,” Mayura spoke condescendingly. “You weren’t on a mercy mission. Rebel spies beamed several transmissions to this ship. I want to know what you did with those plans.” 

Marinette puffed a breath of air forward, straightening her position further, refusing to be looked down at. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” she said coldly, her eyes wide with mock innocence. “I am a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan.” 

Mayura didn’t give her a moment to continue, pointing a slim blue finger at the princess’ chest, her pink eyes beaming at her without pity. “You are an ally of the Rebel Alliance and guilty of treason, your highness,” she said smoothly, her eyes unmoving. And then swiftly, as if to discard the Princess, Mayura turned as she spoke, “Take her!” 

The sudden command caused Marinette to bounce on her feet, swallowing back her fear as the soldiers urged her forward to whatever dark place her fate would lead her. She could do nothing but continue to find air for herself, praying that the will of The Force would deliver Tikki safely to Master Bustier. 

  
  


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“It’s dangerous to hold her, my Lady. If word spreads, it could cause sympathy for the rebellion in the senate.” 

With face forward, Mayura kept walking, the veil shielding her eyes from her expendable companion. This new fresh face knew nothing of the power that was held within the broach on her chest, extending like a series of waves through the hanger, seeking out darkness to fuel her monsters. She considered, as each day passed when she was swarmed by arrogant young talents, that she let them all end breathless, only to be replaced by more competent sentimonsters. 

The Emperor was the only being that could snap her into submission, threatening her power, flippantly suggesting that her time on this side of the light could be limited if she were to push her luck. And she wouldn’t dare try it, not to lose her last glimpse of Gabriel, her last fist full of power, or her last day of life. Not unless the Miraculous Force pushed her to it. 

She acknowledged the Admiral, with a flick of her chin as her feet continued to board the vessel. “She connects us to the rebel spies. She is our only link to their base.” 

Stepping in Mayura’s path, the man pointedly went on. “She’ll die before she’ll tell you anything.” 

His lack of confidence in the Empire’s steel grip was where he faltered further, like a dimming light at the end of a fiery battle. Just ember, sizzling, attempting to breathe it's only breath in the lost battle. She felt the need to put the light out now, but composed herself, knowing her pride would be a better lesson to the young soldier. 

“Leave that to me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated every Tuesday!


	4. Chapter Two: "Just Adrien"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can call me Adrien.” 
> 
> “I see, sir Adrien.” 
> 
> “No,” he said, chuckling softly, comforted by the company. “Just Adrien.” 
> 
> “Adrien,” the droid repeated. “And I am C3PO, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R2D2.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twin suns of Tatooine taught me everything I know.  
> \- Jeremy Messersmith

**Chapter 2**

_My Lady…_

Her steely pink eyes snapped open at the intrusion, bringing a halt to her meditative trance. 

“Speak,” was all she said, tugging her consciousness away from the vast recollections she had set it on, but placing her focus on the commander's muffled voice instead. It was better this way. To not be distracted by colorful hindrances, but to focus on painless tasks, and the will of her malevolent Emperor. 

_Lady Mayura, the plans are not aboard the ship and no transmissions have been made. However, an escape pod was jettisoned during the fight, with no lifeforms aboard._

_What a sly princess_ , Mayura marveled, holding her fist tight at her side. “She must have hidden the plans in the escape pod. See to it personally, Commander, that a detachment is sent down to retrieve them. The Emperor will be dissatisfied if the plans slip from our fingers.” 

_Yes, my Lady._

There was a moment of pause and then a hitch in his breath, just as Lady Mayura moved to silence him. 

“Commander?” she asked, voice thick with indignation, having had enough of pointless conversation with hubristic imperial officers. 

_I’m receiving a transmission from his majesty, Emperor Papillion…_

His voice came off as weak, much like the breathless drone of a corrected admiral. But he cleared his throat, evenly continuing. _Lord Hawkmoth wishes to speak with you, My Lady._

“Very good commander, see to that detachment,” she said, voice hollow, as she ceased the sound of her communicator and presented herself to face her master. Her dedication to him was without question, but she knew the prices paid by her Emperor’s fury and the venom of his voice. News that a young princess had gotten the upper hand in their civil war was not the news she wished to present to her lord. Not while breath still remained in her chest. 

“Yes, my Lord,” she said evenly, dropping herself onto the cold floor with her sturdy bow. “How may I do your bidding?” 

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They move slowly through the Tatooine sands, leaving their trails visible to any creature that possesses eyes. Civilians pay them no mind, but the monsters of the desert are quick to follow their trails. 

“How did we get into this mess? I really don’t know,” muttered the protocol droid. “We seem to be made to suffer. It’s our lot in life.” 

The smaller droid ignored Threepio’s wailing, moving onward dutifully with a one-track mind for her majesty, Princess Marinette. 

“I’ve got to rest before I fall apart. My joints are almost frozen.” 

_Bleep blip,_ was the only response he received, being willfully ignored by the steady persistence of Artoo, scouting out the land for the woman that the Princess had pleaded for. And so he turned, despite C3PO’s many protests, venturing into rocky land in search of settlements. _Bleep blip, bleep blip, bleep blip…_

“What mission? What are you talking about?” 

_Whistle, beep, beep._

“I’ve just about had enough of you. You’ll be malfunctioning in a day, you nearsighted scrap pile. And don’t let me catch you following me, begging for help because you won’t get it.” 

And in his own malfunction, with the ignorance of a droid, Threepio parted ways with his companion, leaving each of them left lonesome, free for the taking of the night time monsters. 

On the smooth path walked by the muttering See-Threepio, cloaked creatures with glowing eyes walk toward him silently, knocking him sideways and then quickly dragging him into the darkness. 

Artoo, just a dome-shaped droid of blue and silver, rolls through as eyes peek through the jagged rocks. Though startled by the lit eyes of his attackers, he is defenseless against their numbers, being pushed to a halt and dragged backward into their transports. 

Without defense, they have no choice but to let themselves be taken to the den of the monsters. 

  
  


* '*

*

*

*

*

*

  
  


A line of dusty machines was spread out across the plane of dessert, being presented to Etienne and his handful of credits. Each model was unique in its own right, beaten and amuck with dirt, but of use, nonetheless. 

Adrien paced his way beside his uncle, allowing him to bargain frugally while he pretended to observe the other models. His uncle had his focus on a red droid, and though it may do him good to pay attention, Adrien allowed his gaze to head back to the horizon, where the twin suns were ghosts of themselves, just two heavy moons that cooled off Adrien’s sunburnt cheeks. 

Earlier, if he had seen it right, he swore a star destroyer had graced the air, leaving a streak of light across the northern sky. He had allowed himself, for the first time in many long weeks, to let himself hope. Even Nino had agreed, peering through the scope, that it was a rare thing to see. For something of that size to so closely touch the backwater planet of Tatooine. It often seemed like this was the only life out there, with no way in and no way out. People just didn’t leave. Not the ones who lived there, mind the bounty hunters and smugglers. 

Adrien had seen the ship as a sign. A sign of an escape. A way out. A way to freedom. And he couldn’t keep himself from clinging to it. 

“We’ll take the blue one,” his uncle said, placing a hand on Adrien’s shoulder and positioning him to look at the machine. Adrien just nodded, smiling at his uncle in approval as he began to inspect the droid for himself. Just as soon as he forced himself to focus, Etienne called to him, examining a gold-painted protocol droid, motioning for his nephew to come and follow. “Take these two over to the garage, will you? I want them cleaned up before dinner.” 

He frowned, meeting his uncle’s eyes, but kept silent. 

Adrien had hoped he would have time before nightfall to meet Nino at Tosche’s Station. It was a desperate attempt to gather the parts he needed to fly, to one day take off and leave the desolate planet. But more than that, it was Nino’s last night on Tatooine, being that he was sailing off at dusk to join the Alliance. Leaving Adrien behind in the confines of his protective Aunt and Uncle, as a useless farmer, with nothing to offer for the greater good of the galaxy. 

He shouldn’t have ever hoped for anything else. 

“You can waste time with your friends when your chores are done,” Etienne said gruffly, nudging his nephew toward the droids. “Now come on. Get to it.” 

He sighed, turning to the golden droid beside him. “Alright. Come on.” 

'

* .

* '

* *

  
  
  
  


He couldn’t help but feel as if he was running out of time. 

The Empire’s steel grip loomed heavier each passing day, like a dark shadow on a once golden galaxy, stripping life and replacing it with oppression. For many years, the shadows didn’t reach the outer rim the same way it did the capital, but as all things did, even Tatooine was changing. Freedom was a myth. A place of safety was nonexistent. Everybody knew the Empire was corrupt, but nobody was brave enough to consider how to stand up against it. 

Not until the Rebel Alliance. 

Adrien had always been sheltered from the chaos of the infectious Empire since he had been a boy, being told not to ask questions and to focus on what he could control, like his work. But that was easier said than done as he grew older, being exposed to calamities he couldn’t disregard and news that he could never forget. Nino had been his first friend who had ventured outside of Tatooine, filling him in on many of the things Adrien would never have heard of otherwise. 

The Rebel Alliance was one of those things. 

Adrien burned at the thought of escape, to join such an Alliance, to have a cause. Moisture farming kept civilization going, but it hardly filled him with relief. Nor did it fulfill him the way it did his family. Not the kind of fulfillment he could find in blasting the Empire’s oppressive shadow to ashes all across the star systems. 

Instead, he found himself scrubbing down a droid with a damp cloth while lowering another into an oil bath. “ _Very_ important stuff,” he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow and setting the rag down on his workbench. 

Clearly, all of this was _much_ more important than freeing entire races and civilizations. At least, that’s how Uncle Etienne seemed to see it. As something that couldn’t be helped. As something that had to be ignored. 

“It isn’t fair,” he said softly, crossing the workshop with a fresh cloth. “I’m never going to get off this rock. Nino’s right,” he said, clenching his teeth as he dug away at the worn dirt of Artoo’s countless missions. The droid beeped sympathetically, turning his upper dome to acknowledge the attention of Threepio. 

“Is there anything I might do to help?” the man of gold intervened, still lowering into his oil bath. 

“Can you alter time? Transport me to another system? Quicken the harvest?” Adrien asked with a sigh, tossing the rag to the side. 

“I don’t think so, sir. I’m only a droid and not very knowledgeable about such things. Not on this planet, anyway,” he continued on. “As a matter of fact, I’m not even sure which planet I’m on.” 

Adrien rolled his eyes, preparing himself for many hours of the droid’s rambling. _Company is company_ , he decided, digging around for something more effective to clean Artoo. 

“If there’s a bright center to the universe, you’re on the planet that is farthest from it.” 

“I see, sir.” 

He was growing tired of the formalities. “You can call me Adrien.” 

“I see, sir Adrien.” 

“No,” he said, chuckling softly, comforted by the company. “Just Adrien.” 

“Adrien,” the droid repeated. If the droid could smile, which he couldn’t, Adrien was sure he would have been now as he enthusiastically made his introduction. “And I am C3PO, human-cyborg relations. And this is my counterpart, R2D2.” 

“Hello,” Adrien said casually, beginning to scrub yet again. 

He liked droids a lot. Though he didn’t go around admitting it, he spent most of his childhood interacting with artificial intelligence, finding company in the likes of scrap metal and wires far more than he ever did the other children. He had always been so secluded from the other civilizations, being demanded to work long hours on the farm while the other children hung out closer to Mos Eisley. Nino was the only kid at school who would walk the trek to the Mars farm, and even then, he couldn’t do it often. So droids, though artificial, had served as good companions more often than not. 

_Beep, beep, blip_...was the blue droid’s greeting. 

Adrien was making no progress with the droid. “You’ve got a lot of carbon scoring here. Have you two been caught in a lot of blaster fire?” 

“With all we’ve been through sometimes I’m amazed we are in as good condition as we are, what with the Rebellion and all.” 

Adrien paused, his hand slipping, eyes lighting up instantly as he turned to the talking droid. He blurted it out faster than he should have, nearly leaping to his feet at the droid’s words. “You know the Rebel Alliance?” 

“That’s how we came to be in your service, if you take my meaning, sir.” 

Adrien’s hands pulsed, turning to face the droid completely. “Have you seen any battles?” 

“Several, I think. Actually there’s not much to tell. I’m not much more than an interpreter and not very good at telling stories…well, not at making them interesting, anyway.” 

He chucked, letting his eyes dim slightly at the droid’s reluctance to tell him more. Usually, droids were more forthcoming than humans, which is one of the reasons he valued them so much. But due to humans, droids often had restrictions on what they could and couldn’t say, and details of a revolution such as the Alliance were things not meant for the eyes of a young farmer.

So he tried to let it go and focus on his work. 

Adrien’s hand was getting sore from digging, wiping away at the worn machinery. He was fed up with the dirt lodged in the droid's mechanics, making it difficult to access his inner structure. 

Pulling abruptly on one of the Artoo unit’s bolts, a sudden flash of blue light passed over his fingers, causing him to stumble backward. And then, lifting his eyes to the configuration, just a flickering silhouette of a girl, with eyes wide with dread, but yet hope. With strength, her voice carried a sweet spirit. 

A girl. 

A beautiful girl.

_Help me, Caline Bustier, you’re my only hope..._

. . . *

. * . . . . . . + .

. . + . . .

. . . . . . .

. . . +. + .

. . . .

. . . * . . . . + .

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can’t stop the change any more than you can stop the suns from setting.  
> -Shmi Skywalker, The Phantom Menace, 1999.


	5. Chapter Three: "Too Much of his Father in Him"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She died around the same time as your father."
> 
> “She knew my father?” 
> 
> “I told you to forget it."
> 
> “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Never give up on hope, no matter how dark things seem."   
> -The Clone Wars

**Chapter 3**

Admittedly, it could have been anything. 

The passing starship that had his mind clouded since the morning’s rising suns. 

Nino’s unbashful elation at the prospect of leaving for something greater. 

Uncle Etienne and Aunt Valerie’s insistence that Adrien’s assist on the farm for yet another season. 

All of it. 

Any of it. 

It was all good at making Adrien Agreste _desperate._

He was crouched on the ground, letting the hologram continue to play, considerably stunned. It was like he was watching a ghost, or something from a film, lighting up the darkened workshop and begging him to excuse his duties. And he wanted to. Wanted to put everything down and help her. If not for his own liberation, then for the liberation of the girl. 

“Who is that?” he asked softly, hugging his knees as he looked at the two droids expectantly. 

See-Threepio seemed just as stunned and confused as himself. He turned to his counterpart. “What is that?” When the droid responded with dismissive _bleep bloop_ , Threepio pushed further. “He asked a question. Who is that?” 

The droid remained silent, letting the message loop again. _Help me, Caline Bustier, you’re my only hope…_

_Beep, beep, blip._

“He says it’s nothing, sir, merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind.” 

But Adrien was unsuccessfully paying it no mind, as he neared the image, eyes wide and curious. The girl, distorting from view as he let his hand fall through the image. Then pulling back, his eyes trained on nothing but the girl. 

“Who is she?” he asked again, moving slowly as if he was in a state of shock. “She’s beautiful.” 

“I’m afraid I’m not quite sure, sir,” the droid droned on, ignoring the way Adrien neared the hologram, pointing his green eyes at it with unparalleled determination. 

“I think she was a passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance, I believe. Our captain was attacked-” 

“Is there more to this recording?” 

_Whistle, beep, bloop._

“Behave yourself, R2,” 3PO chided. “You’re going to get us into trouble. It’s alright, you can trust him. He’s our new master.” 

There was a pause as if the blue droid had to think on it, observing the boy huddled beside him. Small and boyish for the age of nineteen. Under a mess of uncut blond bangs and soft green eyes. He didn’t look as if he could harm a soul. 

Finally, in resolve, he turned to his companion, deciding to bet on the boy having tight lips. 

C3PO translated. “He says he’s the property of Caline Bustier, a resident of these parts, and it’s a private message for her. Quite frankly, sir, I don’t know what he’s talking about. Our last master was Captain Césaire. But with all we’ve been through, this little R2 unit has become a bit eccentric.” 

Adrien straightened a bit, thoughtfully glancing at the window, his mind traveling back to a memory from his youth. 

. ' * . . '

. * * -+- 

. * . ' *

* . ' . . 

* * . .

' *

He was nine years old when he first heard his uncle raise his voice in such a way. Sure, he was loud and gruff at times, but this was a volume that left Adrien startled to the bone. He had never feared his uncle. Not so much that he feared for his life. But he knew when to take a step back and stay out of his way. 

One day, however, at the eruption of his uncle’s emotions, protectively shielding his family from the person at their doorstep, Adrien felt afraid. Not afraid of the woman at his door exactly, but at what his uncle may do to her. He could feel it like a warning circling like a siren in his head, telling him that his uncle had anger deeper than anything he had ever shown before. His clenched fists startled Adrien into turning for his room, not wanting to watch what he may do to the woman. 

And it was just Laure, the woman with the auburn hair. Nothing but kind as far as Adrien could see, kindly complimenting Adrien’s handiwork, with brief exchanges as she walked the sandy path to her home a bit off. She was different in a way Adrien could never piece together, but he surely never thought she was dangerous. 

Hidden, behind a shadow Adrien couldn’t lift, but not with malicious intent. She was laced with fear, or fierce protectiveness, but not malous. Adrien was in knots trying to understand, as Etienne was still just a few paces away, threatening to use his rifle if the woman wouldn’t leave the premises. 

Adrien was like a heavy rock beneath his bed, listened, breathing, feeling his face sting with confused tears. A loss permeated inside his chest for a woman he barely knew. But he felt it, as Laure quietly walked away from the house, leaving a cold shadow over Adrien. 

“Laure makes me feel safe, Uncle,” he said at dinner, the coldness still covering him as he ate. 

Ettiene didn’t look at his nephew, pushing around at his food with an unreadable expression. 

“Were you going to hurt her?” Adrien asked, his voice coming out weak and quiet. 

His uncle dropped his fork onto the plate, looking at Adrien with an unmasked coldness. “Do you know me, boy?” 

Adrien nodded, swallowing hard. 

“Then you know I wouldn’t. But I had to make her understand. She is dangerous, Adrien. Don’t ever talk to her.” 

'

* .

* '

* *

  
  


“Caline Bustier,” Adrien repeated, allowing the droid to turn off the hologram. “Maybe he means Laure Bustier.” 

“I beg your pardon, sir, but do you know what he’s talking about?” 

Adrien moved from his spot on the ground, brushing the dirt from his pants. “Well, I don’t know a Caline, but Laure lives out past the Dune Sea. She’s a strange woman.” He turned to the droid again, letting his mind drift back to the woman in the hologram instead. “I wonder who that girl is. She sounded as if she was in danger. Can you playback the whole message?” 

Contrary to Adrien’s legitimate concern, the R2 unit fired back, pulling away and beeping threateningly. 

“He says the restraining bolt has short-circuited his recording system,” 3PO claimed, trying to ease the tension that was now drawn by the eccentric blue droid. “He suggests that if you remove the bolt, he might be able to playback the entire recording.” 

Adrien nodded, fingering for a set of pliers on his workbench, approaching the blue droid. After a few minutes of pulling at the bolt, it finally popped off. 

To his dismay, the girl in the hologram just disappeared, fading away as quickly as Adrien’s hope began to rise. 

  
* '*

* *

*

*

*

Aunt Valerie’s voice poured into all of Adrien’s frustration, pulling him away from the droids, and the girl, and the secrets. He would be foolish to forget his role. He wasn’t in the Alliance. He wasn’t a savior. He couldn’t do anything to save the girl in the hologram. 

R2D2 must have known that. 

It’s why he pulled it away from Adrien’s ambitious eyes with the conclusion that he would find a stronger hero. 

“I’ll be right there, Aunt Valerie,” he said softly, taking a step back from the blue droid. 

“I’m sorry, sir, but he appears to have picked up a slight flutter.” 

Adrien shook his head, not at all surprised that he was being lied to. It surely wouldn’t be the first time, and hardly the last. But still, it stung. Because he knew it. He knew it was true. He was nothing of use to them either. They wouldn’t trust him. 

So he turned away, knowing that Aunt Valerie at least needed him for something. 

C3PO turned to his counterpart, displaying some kind of annoyance. “Just you reconsider playing that message for him.”

. . . *

. * . . . . . . + .

. . + . . .. . . . . . .

. . . +. + .

. . . .

. . . * . . 

. . + 

.

“I think that R2 unit we bought might have been stolen,” he told his uncle, slipping to the seat beside Aunt Valerie. 

Etienne raised his eyebrows, letting his spoonful of food rest in his bowl. “What makes you think that?” 

Adrien let his eyes rest on his own dinner, swallowing back the fear of bringing it up. Of revisiting a case that was closed almost ten years ago. But how could he not say something, what, with a girl being in trouble? 

“I came across a recording when I was cleaning. The droid says he belongs to a Caline Bustier.” 

There was a long pause at the table, with a vague look of recognition passing over Valerie’s face and a raw distaste falling over Etienne. His chest thudded at the memory of the rage in his Uncle’s eyes, now passing through in a more tame loathing. Adrien still couldn’t understand it. 

“I thought he might have meant Laure,” he said, swallowing hard, afraid his Uncle might demand he never says the name again, just as he had for several months after Laure’s banishment, demanding Adrien never so much as think about the strange woman. But he went on, discarding his apprehension and reminding himself that he wasn’t a child anymore. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” 

All he received with a dismissive grunt. 

“I wonder if she’s related to Laure,” Adrien said, deciding to go on. 

“That witch is just a crazy old woman,” his uncle finally stated, still looking down at his food, quickly changing the subject. “Tomorrow, I want you to take the Artoo unit to Anchorhead and have its memory erased. That’ll be the end of it. It belongs to us now.” 

Adrien sank into his seat, finding himself cornered by his uncle’s stern eyes. He had to grasp at something. “But what if this Caline is looking for him?” 

“She won’t. I don’t think she exists anymore.”

Adrien folded his hands in his lap, feeling that familiar shadow of his youth like he was losing something important somehow. The same way he had felt when his Uncle had forbidden Laure from seeing him. And the same uneasiness he felt every time his Uncle forbade him from entering the Academy. 

“She died around the same time as your father,” he said finally, causing the shadow over Adrien to double in size, a shiver etching its way down his spine. Everything sank. Everything was lost. He almost saw a light, and his Uncle was set on blowing it out. 

But he was desperate for answers, and if the shadow encompassed him, at least he would know why. “She knew my father?” 

“I told you to forget it.” 

Adrien clenched his teeth, nodding carefully as something strong boiled beneath his skin. 

“Your only concern is to prepare those droids for tomorrow. In the morning, I want them up there on the south ridge, working on those condensers.” 

“Yes, sir,” Adrien whispered almost mutely, keeping his eyes fixed on his food in a stretched long silence. He hardly even reacted when his uncle continued, dictating that he stay for another harvest, that he take another year yet before going off to the Academy. 

But he could hardly listen, feeling the same shadow, the same built-up power inside burning alive in his chest. It would do him no good to lose control of his words, or worse, his actions. He couldn’t look at his Uncle. Not without saying something he may regret. It wasn’t as if he’d change his mind anyway. 

So Adrien slipped from his seat without a word, wandering back to the workshop. 

Aunt Valerie turned to her husband, letting her hand rest in his. “Etienne, he can’t stay here forever. All of his friends are gone.” 

“I’ll make it up to him next year. I promise.” 

She looks down at her plate, laughing quietly at his stubbornness. “Adrien’s just not a farmer, Etienne. He has too much of his father in him.” 

Etienne met his wife’s eyes, a spark of terror passing through just as quickly as his face softened. But still, he held his ground. 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

'

* .

* '

* *

  
  


The twin suns mocked him, like critical eyes blazing in the dark purple sky, with a reminder that they would never leave him, and they would be the only suns that he would ever see. And the moons to meet them would be the only night his young eyes would witness until they grow old. This was the farthest he could venture. This was the cage around his pounding chest. 

But he calmed himself, drawing from the warmth and releasing a breath. 

He couldn’t remain angry. He learned a long time ago what kind of cataclysmic fury lived within his calloused fingers, untamed and chaotic, like the burning inside his chest to venture past the suns. But with that, a deep fear. A fear that let Adrien give in to his Uncle’s boundaries, allowing the cage to lock him in. 

It was fear. 

Fear of the monsters circling his memory, just a child gripping the edge of his mattress as he trembled, frozen to the point of speechlessness. His Aunt and Uncle’s corpses, all a dream. A tall, dark stranger, cloaked in purple, burning the flesh from their bones. The dreams were heavy and unexplainable. 

Fear of intuition, serving him as a whisper, to go or to not, to run or to hide. Always honest. Always right. Defying all explanations, the whisper saved his life more times than he could count. But yet, he feared to listen for it. His uncle always made him wary of things he couldn’t explain. 

Fear of waking up to a room on fire, lit around him, with no unblown candle to catch the fabric. Just him, and a ghostly memory, hidden behind the fearful eyes that watched his Uncle put out the flames. He had told him to be more careful with his lantern. Adrien knew he had to be more careful with his rage. 

Fear, still inside, but calmed with time. He had to swallow it back and ignore it. If he were to let the fire thrive, he wasn’t sure what he might do. What he might destroy. And it was for the best, he supposed, to keep his destructive nature away from a growing Alliance and an innocent princess. 

He lifted his head, staring into the suns, his body immersed. He was so afraid, but yet he could feel it. The longing… _Longing Longing Longing._

It pulled. 

But he could pull back too. Despite his growing aspirations, he knew he would go yet another night staring only at the same twin suns. 

The only suns he would ever see. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Of course. It ends where it begins. On a desert planet with twin suns."   
> \- Maul, Star Wars Rebels, Twin Suns.


	6. Chapter Four: "Hello There"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s for your protection, Adrien,” he would say. “We just want you to be safe.” 
> 
> Adrien didn’t want to be safe. He wanted to be free. And if an early grave was the price to pay for living, then Adrien was prepared to pay it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the shorter chapter. I want to make sure I can stay caught up enough to update every week and despite being in quarantine, I've been unbelievably distracted. The next chapter will be longer. I promise.

**Chapter 4**

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming. It had been clear from the get-go that Artoo’s loyalties were elsewhere. Adrien couldn’t even blame him really, for not remaining on a moisture farm with some helpless child, when he had the duty to protect a girl. A girl, lavished in the finest gown, holding her head up like the royalty Adrien could only assume she was. She was clearly a person of importance, based on the urgency of the little droid's actions. It was important. Way more important than Adrien’s little family. 

So not finding him in the workshop came as no surprise. 

See-Threepio was hidden behind Adrien’s workbench like a scared child, with the lights out, absent of the usual enthusiastic greeting. When Adrien’s eyes caught sight of him, the droid raised his hands in surrender and stumbled back into the wall. It was all peculiar for a droid to be afraid, at least in the closest way a programmed creature could exhibit it. 

“It wasn’t my fault, sir, please don’t deactivate me. I told him not to go, but he’s faulty, malfunctioning, and he kept babbling on about his mission.” 

“Oh no…” Adrien whispered, turning back toward the doorway, shuffling back to the place he had just been standing a moment ago, surveying the plane through his binoculars. 

Threepio hobbled behind him, making it clear that the blame was on Artoo. “That R2 unit has always been a problem. These Astro droids are getting quite out of hand.” 

The way Adrien saw it, he was right to blame him. The protocol droid was at no fault. Adrien should have been the one to be sure the droid remained inside. He should have questioned Artoo’s insistence to remove the restraining bolt. “How could I be so stupid? He’s gone.”

“Pardon me, sir, but couldn’t we go after him?” 

Adrien dropped the binoculars to his chest.“It’s too dangerous with all the monsters around. We have to wait until morning.” 

  
  


. ' * . . '

. * * -+- 

. * . ' *

* . ' . . 

* * . .

' *

  
  


The Tatooine suns were hot on Adrien’s back, like two glaring eyes, peering down at him as he scanned the terrain for his runaway droid. Meanwhile, C3PO was babbling on about R2s antics, and Adrien was beginning to develop a migraine. He was already certain that this day would be even more eventful than the last. 

But at least he was getting somewhere. 

“There’s a droid up ahead,” he said, interrupting Threepio. “Hit the accelerator.” 

The temporary woosh of acceleration caused him to relax a bit, comforted by the breeze and the adrenaline of speed. The movement felt good. Being stagnant always made his restless, so long rides on his speeder bike were a useful cure to the madness of being confined for long periods of time. He had asked his uncle a few times if he could participate in the pod races, but he knew before he was shot down what the answer would be. 

“It’s for your protection, Adrien,” he would say. “We just want you to be safe.” 

Adrien didn’t want to be safe. He wanted to be free. And if an early grave was the price to pay for living, then Adrien was prepared to pay it.

The problem had always been his heart. He cared for his family. They upset him at times, but he loved them. And he would never want to disappoint them. He would never want to break their hearts. He had always wanted to earn their approval. Even as an adult, it meant so much to him. 

So little pleasures like a speeder ride through the Jundland Wastes could raise his spirits. Even when a precarious droid was the culprit, putting a pause on the day he had hoped would be productive. 

He pulled up beside the droid, leaping from the speeder. He all but demanded the droid tell him where he was off to. 

“Master Adrien is your rightful owner now,” 3PO told him when the droid began to stroll in the other direction. “We’ll have no more of this Caline Bustier nonsense.” 

Distracted by the droids argument, Adrien almost missed the subtle alarm in his chest, pulling him to take a step back to assess the area. The droid began to panic, whistling and beeping, also noting the approach of monsters. 

“There are several creatures approaching from the southeast,” Threepio informed, taking a few frantic steps to stand behind the smaller droid. 

“Mayura’s monsters, or worse.” 

Adrien had been blessed with the acute sense and the ability to foresee. These two things combined were some of the only reasons he was still alive today. He was a small child and Tatooine’s inhabitants were not prone to show mercy. They found no remorse at the thought of attacking small children as long as there was a price that they may be paid. He was lucky to have gotten away every time thus far. 

But Adrien was sure his luck was just about to run out. 

Though he felt its approach, he didn’t see the monster before it was ramming a rifle into the side of his cheek, producing a panicked cry, before he felt his body crumble at the next strike to his ribs. He stumbled backward, his hands frantically feeling for his own rifle, only to realize it was snug in his speeder as the monster pushed hard to his side, causing him to slam heavy onto the dune. The creature roared victoriously, hitting him hard in the chest. 

Adrien was panting repeatedly, pain spreading throughout him as frustrated tears welled up in his eyes, at his own weakness. The suns felt hotter now, burning at his open skin as the tallest of the monsters pulled at his arms roughly, slamming him into the side of his speeder. The world spun, growing darker as the monster pushed him back again. 

Again and again and again. 

He couldn’t breathe. 

As the blaring suns quickly grew cold at his strained breath, a noise drowned out the monsters, like a shriek passing from the other side of the plane. His vision was foggy, but as he was pushed away from the startled creature, he could make out the figures of two people, one the figure of a woman and the other of a lofty man towering over her. But Adrien managed to breathe because he could sense in his being that they were here to help. It was enough relief to allow himself to give in to the weight of unconsciousness. 

  
  


* '*

*

*

*

*

*

  
  


The monsters scattered, like a swarm of bugs at the sound of a heavy boot in their walk. They could remember the cloaked ghost in their memory, but never her face. Like a fable spoken by the mouths of the older villagers or the warnings of the corrupt who feared the way of the Dune Sea. She was no monster, but she had a habit of leaving her enemies shaking in their boots.

She slipped through, crouching to reach out to Adrien, his boyish face covered in unseen bruises and blood. He didn’t stir, but she reached to touch his forehead, and then to feel for his pulse. She relaxed, setting her eyes on the man behind her, who was staring unmoving at the place the monsters had just been. 

“It was wise of you to come to me. I didn’t sense his distress.” 

The man just nodded, with no need for an explanation. It was his purpose, after all. 

She caught the attention of the droid, hidden behind a rock. “Hello there,” she said, removing the cloak from her head. “Come here, don’t be afraid.” 

She looked back again at Adrien, pushing some of his blood-soaked hair out of his face. 

And then she reached for his shoulder, letting her power give him strength, causing his eyes to fall open and stare up at the auburn-haired woman tending to him. He looked around, frantically searching the area for monsters, his sore chest heaved as the woman helped him sit. “Rest easy, you’ve had quite a day.” 

Adrien was dizzy, but his attention was drawn almost immediately to the woman. “Laure?” 

She smiled, holding him steady. 

“I’m so glad to see you,” he hoarsely told her, glancing at Artoo. 

“The Jundland Wastes are not to be traveled lightly. Tell me, Adrien, what brought you this far?” 

After a moment of steadying himself against a rock, he motioned to the droid again. “This droid. He says he’s searching for his former master, but I’ve never seen a droid so devoted before. He claims to be the property of a Caline Bustier. Is it possible that she’s a relative of yours?” 

A shadow of recognition flowed through her features like she was caught in an act she had been playing for too many days to count. “Caline Bustier?” she asks, as if to herself, startled by the question. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time.” 

“My uncle said she was dead.” 

Laure scoffed, resting her chin in her hand. “Oh, she’s not dead,” she said matter-of-factly. “Well, not yet.”

Adrien brushed the dirt and blood from his face, glancing at the woman with relief. “You know her?” 

She laughed, and Adrien sighed, remembering her laugh from his younger years.“Well, of course, I know her. But I haven’t gone by the name Caline since before you were born.”


	7. Chapter Five: "How does she do that?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How does she do that?" 
> 
> "Nobody knows," Nino shrugged. "Some say she's a ghost. Some say magic. Others say a Jedi Knight." 
> 
> "Aren't all the Jedi dead?" 
> 
> "Probably," he shrugged. "But she's on our side and she has a laser sword. Rena calls her Ladybug"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize for not updating for the last two weeks. My computer completely stopped working and it was difficult for me to access google docs for a while. But the laptop is finally here (two weeks later than promised, thanks USPS) so I have an extra-long chapter this week. I will definitely be back with chapter 6 next Tuesday.

**Chapter 5**

His first recallable memory of Laure was when he was five years old. He was standing beside his aunt in the kitchen, rinsing through a pile of tools and pulling away at the grime of years of his uncle’s work. His hands were warm under the faucet, savoring the feeling of steady running water. 

“Adrien, please don’t waste it,” his aunt chided, patting his hands and motioning to the remaining tools on the table. 

Etienne came to inspect his work, placing a cool hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “Good. You’re doing good.” Adrien couldn’t help but smile down at his crinkly hands, heart sailing at the praise. “Though your aunt is right. Savor the water, okay? That way you can wash up.” 

Adrien simply nodded, selecting a set of pliers and beginning to scrub, when he heard a knock on the front door. 

He paused, waiting for the reaction of the household. 

When they remained still, keeping their eyes focused on their individual tasks, Adrien put his eyes back on his own work, assuming he had misheard. 

But then, this time feeling more internal, he felt a soft tap, tickling away at his consciousness. He glanced at his uncle, and then his aunt, realizing that they hadn’t heard it again. 

“Someone’s at the door,” he said softly, meeting the eyes of his aunt. 

“I didn’t hear anything," she said with a shrug, glancing at her husband. 

His uncle sighed, getting up from his seat and making his way to the door.

Something odd happened when he reached the doorway. His face fell as he swung it open, causing a chill to run down Adrien’s spine as Etienne looked him over, almost scrutinizing. “It’s Laure Bustier,” he said to Valerie, with eyes that said a million words. 

She sighed, standing in the doorway with him, her face falling in the same way. “How…” 

Adrien was confused, so he slipped himself off of the stole he was sitting on and made his way between them both, looking out at the hills of hot sand. And his eyes grew wide, confused, and nervous. 

It was a woman he didn’t recognize, and she was just a speck in the distance, coming toward their homestead by a speeder. The knock had not sounded on the door, but it was in his head. In his head, sometime before Laure could have possibly been able to knock. When his aunt and uncle looked over at him, he felt as if he was in trouble. 

When the woman did approach the house, Adrien was instructed to wait in his bedroom, practicing his reading as Valerie had quickly ordered. He didn’t understand why he was abruptly pulled from the other task, but he supposed they wanted him away from whatever conversation was taking place in the kitchen. The muffled chatter was enough to cause his stomach to turn, with waves of frustration coming from his uncle across the home. 

But soon enough, there was a soft knock, and he knew that it wasn’t his aunt or uncle. 

“Come in,” he said, putting his book to the side and sitting cross-legged on his bed. 

The curtain opened and a pretty young woman stepped into his space, looking at him as if she knew him completely. 

“Hello, Adrien,” she said, moving so that she was sitting below him on the floor. “Are you alright?” 

He nodded quickly, still feeling tense from the hard look his uncle had given him when his aunt ushered him away into his bedroom, but Laure was soothing. She almost felt motherly, in a way even his aunt never had. 

“Did you hear me coming?” 

“You knocked on the door.” 

She smiled, and he didn’t have to explain himself. 

“You’re very special, Adrien,” she said, smiling at him kindly. 

They were in silence for a moment as Laure studied him, with her green eyes peering out from beneath her bangs as if searching him for something that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye. And she smiled, and he felt something inside of him shift, as he felt how close she was, in a way far from physical. It was as if she was in his head, gently letting him know that she would always be there when nobody else could understand. Because she knew more than anyone, that his aunt and uncle feared his strange abilities. That many people might. But Laure, the strange woman that he barely knew, would accept them, and encourage them. 

No wonder Etienne hated her so much. 

  
  


*

*

*

*

*

  
  


She looked almost the same now. 

Her bangs were gone, exchanged for longer, grown out hair, braided so that it was out of her face. She was older around her eyes, and tired, but still, the same. The same kindness. The same comforting green eyes. 

“Come, Adrien. We should head indoors before they come back.” 

Brushing off the dust from his pants, he followed her, with Artoo trailing behind and Threepio whaling after him. 

“The monsters are easily startled but they will come back in greater numbers,” Laure said, urging Adrien to move forward with a hand on his shoulder and a stranger leading the way just ahead of them. His attention was quickly drawn to the large man, feeling a wave of recognition. 

“Who is he?” Adrien asked, moving as quickly as he could with his feet sinking into the sand. 

She smiled, looking back to be sure the droids still followed them. “Well, he’s quite unique. In fact, he’s not exactly a man at all.” 

“What is he then?” 

She looked thoughtful, motioning for him to come closer as if she were to tell him a secret. “Adrien, have you ever heard of a sentimonster?” 

Adrien shook his head. 

“Well, a sentimonster can be something good or it can be something bad. It all depends on the person who creates it. For example, the creatures that just attacked you are also considered sentimonsters, created by the Emperor's apprentice.” 

“And him?” 

“I call him the Gorilla. He is a sentimonster created by your mother. She created him to look after you.” 

He stopped, turning so that Laure would have to face him. “You knew my mother?” 

She smiled softly, placing a soft hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get back to my home first. There’s a lot I must tell you.”

. + . . . . . .

. . . *

. * . . . . . . + .

. . + . . .

. . . . . . .

. . . +. + .

Laure’s place wasn’t much different than his own. Just smaller in size. But unlike his homestead that was littered with tools and equipment for the farm, Laure’s little hut had shelves of unique looking rocks and locked up wooden boxes. She had a collection of plants despite living in the desert, with little flowery cactuses in painted ceramic pots. It was tidy, but full, with recycled bottles of liquor and colorfully decorated clone trooper helmets. 

But more than anything, there were shelves and shelves of books. Books of every kind. Books that looked older than the planet itself. 

"Books," he commented with a wry grin. Books were rare in the age of technology. It was a miracle to find a physical copy of any old text. 

"I'm a bit of a collector," she said, with her back against the doorway, standing out in front of the orange backdrop cloth that served as a door. "I find there's always more to learn about." 

"No doubt," he said, being drawn to a sitting area, where Laure had a flimsy wooden table. Based on the half-empty bowl of what he assumed was oatmeal, it seemed she had left in quite a hurry. 

She seemed to know where his line of thought was heading. "You and the Gorilla are connected," she said simply. "He alerted me immediately that you were in danger." 

The Gorilla stood stiffly on the other side of the orange curtain, keeping guard. Emotionless, as if it was his only purpose, but still satisfied, as if that purpose was also fulfilling. 

It was strange, now that she said it, he could feel the connection strongly. It caused him to wonder if his near-death experiences were stopped due to his own abilities, or a protective stranger in the shadows. 

But it wasn't only The Gorilla he could connect with. He could feel Laure even back when he was a small child, anticipating her actions and sensing her emotions. And even now, he felt like he knew her, and she knew him. She hid nothing from him. 

"We're connected too, aren't we?" 

Delight spread into her eyes. "How do you know that, Adrien?" 

If it had been anyone else asking the question, his cheeks would have gone red with shame. But he was so relieved someone was asking. "I don't know, Laure. I can feel it…it's everywhere. All around. Like in the air, almost." 

"Almost," she said softly, casually slipping into the seat by her table, motioning for Adrien to sit across. "You aren't wrong." 

_I'm_ _not_ _crazy_ , he thought with relief. 

"I used to be a Jedi Knight back in The Clone Wars, so was your father." 

His laughter was incredulous, but it was hard to tell if it was directed at Laure's ridiculous claims or his Uncle's lies. “No, my father didn’t fight in the wars. My uncle told me that he was a navigator on a spice freighter.” 

She nodded, and Adrien could feel in his heart that she wasn't lying. “That’s what your uncle told you. He didn’t exactly agree with your father’s ideals. They believed him to be dangerous, and that included his power and the rest of the Jedi.” She looked away, a strange sadness drowning out her bright features. But she looked down before he caught it, trying to move past the heavy ache of the memory. 

“I wish I could have known him.” 

She smoothed out the fabric of her robe, coaxing a grin “He was a cunning warrior, an expert duelist,” she said, meeting Adrien’s eyes again. She breathed, offering the boy a larger smile. “And a good friend.” 

Adrien turned to face her, feeling elated to know more about the mysterious father that his uncle had hidden away from him. He couldn't help but be relieved to hear something other than that old lifeless story. And to think, his father had always been a Jedi Knight, while Uncle Etienne had claimed all along that he was no more than a pilot, smuggling drugs instead of being there for his son. Getting himself killed due to unpaid debt. 

His uncle had lied. His father was a hero. 

Adrien couldn't help but smile to himself, glancing at Artoo with gratitude for forcing him out this far. 

“A good friend,” she said again, getting distracted by her thoughts. “That reminds me,” she said, lifting from her seat. “I have something for you.” 

Adrien sat up, confused. 

“Your father would have wanted you to have this when you were old enough, but your uncle wouldn’t allow it. He was afraid you might follow Caline Bustier on some damn idealistic crusade as your father did.” 

Laure approached Adrien while gripping a box, her hands wrapped around it as if it was delicate. 

Adrien stood to get a closer look. 

Dark wood and octagon shaped, with faded ancient engravings decorating it. It didn't belong in Tatooine clearly. It belonged in the ancient ruined temples in Coruscant, that the history books had claimed were the walls of a cult. It belonged somewhere sacred, not in a worn-down desert hut or in the calloused hands of a poor boy from a moisture farm. 

“What is it?” 

“This was your father’s Miraculous. It was the ancient jewel of the Jedi Guardians and a source of power chosen for very few Jedi Knights.” 

He peeled the lid off to expose a silver ring. “It’s a ring,” he said, thoroughly confused. “I was expecting a laser sword.” 

. ' * . . '

. * * -+- 

. * . ' *

* . ' . . 

* * . .

' *

"Hey, Adrien!" Nino had called, slowing down his speeder bike. "Want to see something cool?" 

Adrien let his bag of tools clatter to the trail, discarded by the sight of his best friend's arrival. Nino had been traveling for weeks to neighboring planets, hoping to get word on the last fragment of the Republic, now the Rebel Alliance. 

"You know I do." 

Adrien followed after him, keeping his comments to himself about the new green jacket and the hand-made satchel that was slung over his shoulder. Adrien knew he was getting an income due to his DJ bookings at underworld clubs, but he didn't know he was bringing in enough to afford that. 

"A gift from Rena," he said when he caught Adrien's eyes. 

"Rena," Adrien mused, slipping into Nino's bunk. "Is that her real name?" 

"Can't say, my dude. But it's real enough for me." He was casual about the thing, but Adrien didn't miss the sparkle in his eyes. "I suppose I'll find out when I join the Alliance." 

Adrien lit up. "You got a way in?" 

"Took a while to decode, but yeah. Rena's a hardcore woman. She didn't make it easy." 

Adrien took a small glass of blue milk out of Nino's fridge, unscrewing the cap. "Well, I'm sure she wouldn't want to risk a whole rebellion for you, no offense. It's not like she'd just send out coordinates." 

"None taken," he said with a grin. "I'm meeting one of her contacts at a neutral location in two weeks." 

Adrien almost choked on his drink, his hand slipping down the bottle at his words. "Did you just say two weeks?" He asked, voice tense. 

"Yeah," he said, unaware of Adrien's disappointment. 

He had hoped Nino would wait a few more weeks before leaving so that maybe he could make some progress with Etienne and be able to join him. 

"I almost forgot," Nino said, pulling a device out of his satchel. "This." 

"Right," Adrien said, forcing a grin. "What you wanted to show me." 

He nodded, turning to place a hand on his friend's shoulder. Clearly his tone hadn't been as enthusiastic as it should be and Nino noticed. 

"Look, your uncle's tough. I'm not sure he'll ever let you leave" 

Adrien looked down. 

"But I think you'll get there someday." 

He really hoped Nino was right. 

"So how about some motivation." 

"I could use it," Adrien said softly, taking the holoprojector and switching it on. 

"I know how you feel about the strange and unusual, and this woman is definitely that."

A woman in tattered robes lit up in front of him, slicing through the air with a pair of glowing swords. The way she moved seemed humanly impossible, and the technique of her fighting stance seemed refined and well...perfect. 

"How does she do that?" 

"Nobody knows," Nino shrugged. "Some say she's a ghost. Some say magic. Others say a Jedi Knight." 

Adrien tilted the projector to get a better view of her swords. They looked blue, but then, so did the rest of her. It was the curse of a cheap holoprojector. 

"Aren't all the Jedi dead?" 

"Probably," he shrugged. "But she's on our side and she has a laser sword. Rena calls her Ladybug" 

Adrien watched it play again, amazed by her movements. She was so fast he couldn't get a good view of her robe. She was just a blur of black and red. "She doesn't look like a bug to me." 

Nino laughed. "Join the rebellion and see for yourself." 

"Someday," Adrien said with a hopeless tone. 

"Someday," Nino confirmed, placing the recording in Adrien's bag. "Meet her face to face and she'll probably fall madly in love." 

To this Adrien laughed, so hard that tears came to his eyes. Because out of all the ridiculous ideas Nino had ever had, this was the most insane. 

_Madly_ _in_ _love_ , Adrien thought, rolling his eyes. _With_ _me_. 

. . . *

. * . . . . . . + .

. . + . . .. . . . . . .

. . . +. + .

. . . .

. . . * . . 

. . + 

.

“I think you mean...a lightsaber,” she said thoughtfully, motioning for him to take a closer look at the ring. “Go ahead, put it on.” 

He nodded, slipping the ring out of the box, with nervous energy bubbled about inside of him. He almost missed the wave of green light that exploded across the room and the black creature that floated up in front of him. 

The creature levitated lazily in front of him, yawning dramatically. 

Adrien’s eyes grew wide, glancing at Laure, before focusing back on the floating black cat. “What are you?” 

“Plagg. Pleased to meet you,” he said, before zooming across the room and hastily discarding many of Laure’s belongings in an attempt to find nutrients, nibbling on various inedible things before turning to Laure expectantly. Laure sighed in exasperation, clearly familiar with Plagg’s antics. 

Laure darted after the creature, grabbing its waist and wrapping it in her hands. “Come here,” she said, placing it into Adrien's open hands. “Talk first, food later,” Laure demanded, sending a death glare to the creature. 

He sighed dramatically, resting his head on Adrien’s wrist. “I’m a kwami. Kwamis grant power and I offer the power of destruction. Understood?” 

Adrien shook his head, looking at Laure desperately. 

She just laughed, digging around in her pantry for an extra slice of cheese. “This will help,” she said, holding out the slice for the kwami that was now phasing through Adrien’s palm. He tried not the shriek at the sight. 

“I don’t understand,” Adrien said, watching the creature eat with a guarded expression. “Why would you want to give me the power of destruction?  _ Me _ ?” 

Laure glanced at the kwami, who had finished devouring his food. Clearly satisfied despite the lack of expensive camembert.

“Because you’re the chosen one,” the kwami said, returning to Adrien with a much more patient expression. “Laure wouldn’t have given me to you if you weren’t.” 

Adrien didn’t ask how she determined that he was capable of possessing power, but he decided he didn’t need to know. He turned the ring around in his finger, carefully placing it onto his finger all while watching Laure carefully. 

“Okay, now what?” 

“Repeat after me,” she said, sitting in between the boy and the kwami. “Claws out.” 

Adrien listened, giving Plagg a quick nod. “Okay, claws out.”

. ' * . . '

. * * -+- 

. * . ' *

* . ' . . 

* * . .

' *

  
  


Adrien wasn’t sure how to describe it exactly. 

It was all new to him. The fusion of human and kwami. The green light and the black material that was somehow attached to his skin. The way his sore muscles felt strong. The way his quiet persona felt unnecessary for the first time ever. He couldn’t explain how or why, but he liked it. He liked being something other than what he had always been. 

He passed in front of the mirror Laure had set up for him, stopping to truly see himself for the first time. 

And it was like looking at a stranger. 

Two small cat ears peeked out of a sea of his messy hair, as well as an unmovable black mask that guarded the skin around his eyes. And his eyes nearly glowed in the dark room, covering his natural eyes entirely with a layer of green light. His clothing was tight but not uncomfortable, looking much looser with his eyes then it felt when he touched it. The black robes wrapped neatly around his upper half, tightly harnessed by a long belt around his waist that left a string of leather in the back that he assumed was supposed to be a tail. The robe circled a few inches below his waist, leaving his pants and boots. They felt tight against his skin, but they were just thin cloth and bits of leather at the seams. The boots fit him perfectly as if they were a part of his body, completely black despite dark green stitching by the sole and a lit-up green paw print underneath his foot. 

He looked at his gloved hands, seeing that the ring was different now. The silver was now replaced with black and a green paw print glimmered back at him similarly to the print on his shoe. 

Directly above his makeshift tail was some sort of staff, cold and metallic to the touch. He detached it, swinging it around in his gloved paws until he had an easy rhythm. 

“You asked about a lightsaber,” Laure interrupted, placing a hand on his staff and silently asking for his attention.

“Yeah,” he said, placing his staff in her open hand. 

“Well, you’re looking at it, Adrien.” She handed it back to him, showing him the way the one end could be unscrewed fairly quickly, leaving a shiny black hilt and excess staff. He clipped the staff to his belt and held just the hilt, apprehensively imagining what would happen if he let his finger activate the blade. 

“Laure, I’m just a farmer. I can’t be a Jedi Knight.” 

She shook her head, showing no doubt in his capabilities. “Go on, try it.” 

He sighed, putting his finger over the switch, closing his eyes as he pushed down on it. His eyes snapped open as a loud hum filled the atmosphere, causing him to stumble back as he held the weapon in his clenched hand. For a moment, he just remained still, staring ahead through the fluorescent blue, fizzing and humming as he slowly rocked it side to side. Then he breathed deeply, building up enough confidence to swing it more aggressively, arching his hand upward and then slicing through the air in a circular motion. 

“You have good form,” Laure told him, coming up behind him and adjusting the way his fingers wrapped around the black and silver hilt and then nudging him to keep his legs further apart for better balance. “It takes a while to get used to but I think you’ll get the hang of it.” 

He nodded, releasing the switch and holding the lifeless weapon in his palm, reaching to reattach it to his staff. 

He took this opportunity to practice with the staff as well, swinging it around and mimicking the defense stances that Laure was demonstrating. She showed him how he could spin it to fight the weight of gravity and how he could extend it to carry him if he needed to move somewhere fast. Though, there was only so much he could do in the tight confines of her tiny home, so they both decided to save the grander movements for another time. 

He felt for the cloak hanging from his shoulders, slipping it over his hair and startling himself at the sight. The cloak shadowed most of his face, concealing him ever further than the mask did, leaving just a pair of glowing green eyes peering back through the darkness. It reminded him of the sight of the sentimonsters that took droids for profit or the ones that had attacked him earlier. 

He let his cloak down, looking at Laure for approval. 

She only smiled, coming to stand beside him in the mirror. 

“For more than a thousand generations, the Jedi Knights and Guardians were the protectors of peace and justice in the Old Republic. Back before the dark times, before the Empire.” 

She looked sad in a way he had never witnessed before, so he approached her in an attempt to offer some sort of comfort. 

But she dropped her expression, giving him an easy smile. “To drop the transformation, you repeat after me.” He nodded. “Claws in.” 

“Claws in.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tell me...is it the Chosen One?"
> 
> "He is."
> 
> "He will avenge us." 
> 
> \---Maul and Obi-Wan Kenobi’s final conversation, Star Wars Rebels, Twin Suns, 2017.


	8. Chapter Six: “But Laure, I’m not a highly ranked Jedi Guardian.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s soft-spoken, selfless, and he doesn’t seek out conflict. He has everything Gabriel had but he knows how to hold back. He knows how to put out the flame before he burns down the entire village.” 
> 
> “So he’s boring!” Plagg mewled, shooting away with the cheese Caline had left him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updating now on Sunday nights. Marinette returns next chapter!

**Chapter 6**

Adrien didn’t like being back to his usual self. _Him_ , the farmer boy, with his cuts and his bruises that were hidden when he donned the mask. Now he looked like that frail boy who couldn’t hold his own against the monsters without the help of Laure. Like the insignificant child that was thrown around in school by the older students, relying on the aid of Nino to get him through. Like that little kid, scared to reveal his unique abilities and strangeness to his own family, in fear that they would shun him for not being the commoners that they wanted him to mimic. 

When he merged with Plagg, he had a chance to embrace those things that made him strange and powerful, feeling for the first time in his life that they weren’t bad. That they weren’t abnormal, but that they were just special. 

Plagg was nestled on his shoulder, vibrating on his collar bone. Not transforming his meek body, but keeping close. Attached to Adrien just as Adrien was attached to him. Finding safety in the warmth of a pitiful human. 

“Plagg doesn’t usually accept just any holder, not without putting up a fight at least,” she told him, motioning to the kwami sitting on Adrien’s robed shoulder. “I’ve tried to interact with him over the years but he’s not as trusting as the other kwami.” 

“Is there a reason?” Adrien asked, scooping Plagg into his hand and setting the sleeping creature on his lap. 

She sighed, and there was a sad quirk of her lips. “Perhaps he still isn’t over the loss of his previous holder.” 

“My father?” Adrien asked, not needing to ask. 

It must have been a horrible loss. For Laure, sure. From the things she had said, it seemed her and Adrien’s father, Gabriel, had once been close. Closer than siblings even. An unstoppable and formidable pair. 

But to have a companion such as this, a kwami, must have been much deeper of a companionship. Adrien could already see it, at the weight of the small body on his leg, how that bond could be. How to constantly have another being beside you, and then transform and become a part of you regularly, could be difficult to let go of. 

If Adrien was lucky, he hoped perhaps he could remind Plagg of his time with his previous holder and earn his trust. 

“Your father,” she confirmed, looking at the ring on Adrien’s finger. 

Sensing the tension of the room, Adrien changed the topic. “Do you have a Miraculous?” 

She shook her head. “As I’ve said, being gifted a Miraculous is very rare, especially during the time of the Jedi Order. A Jedi had to exhibit a great deal of strength and discipline to even be considered. And then, the masters of the Jedi council would correspond and vote on the proposition. After that, it would be up to the kwami to decide if they would accept their proposed guardian.” 

Adrien reached to touch Plagg’s velvet back, running his thumb over the creature affectionately, wondering if Plagg wanted him as his holder or if he got privileges for being his past holder's son. 

“Everything has changed, Adrien. The old ways have long passed. Plagg will not allow me to use his power, but he trusts me. He trusts me because your father trusted me. And so, he trusts that I have chosen well when I decided on you. Eventually, Plagg will decide if he accepts you or not. Until then, he will go with you. Stay loyal to him and he will stay loyal to you.” 

Adrien responded with a firm nod, knowing loyalty came easy for him. And it was safe to say that he was already attached to the kwami. He wanted more than anything to be liked and accepted by him, basking in the thought of the freedom and life that the kwami could give him, but also being drawn to the little creature, wanting to be his friend and hold onto him. 

He cared for Plagg. Just as he cared for Artoo and Threepio. Just as he cared for Laure. Just as he cared for the girl in the hologram. Call it a character flaw perhaps, that Adrien could trust and care so easily, but Adrien couldn’t help it.

“He has never let his guard down like that for me. You should be honored.” 

  
  


* . * . , *

. . . *

* . .' * , . . , *

. * .'

' . . * * .'.

. ' ' . . ' .

. * , * ' *

.

* . *

  
  


Caline Bustier had stood in her home, blinking at the flash of green light that had pierced the room. It was unfamiliar to her, to see a kwami appear before her eyes, unlike Gabriel, who must have woken up to this sight each morning. 

Plagg dropped forward, resting his tiny head in the palm of her hand, not sparing her a second’s glance. 

“I’m sorry to wake you,” she told him, reaching for a slice of camembert to offer the kwami, as a peace offering, perhaps. “I know how much you hate the suns.” 

The suns were risen now, at the strength of the day, warming up the hut through the fraying curtain by the entrance. It was a shock he remained still, since last time she had exposed Plagg to the blistering suns of Tatooine, he had lodged himself behind her bookshelf, not reappearing until well into the late night. Even then, he wouldn’t unpeel his eyes all the way and hardly had looked at her. 

This time he responded with a slight huff, but no more. He waited, arms crossed, ready for whatever Caline would demand of him. He looked like a puppet, just hovering there like he was tied to a string, with glazed over eyes, and a sagging body. He seemed almost depressed. She had never even considered that a kwami could be depressed. 

“Who’s the kid?” 

“His name is Adrien,” she told him, offering another small piece of cheese. “Adrien Agreste.” 

Plagg’s eyes sparked at the name Agreste, but then his entire expression soured. He had been clear since Gabriel’s fall that he would never offer himself to another guardian again, despite what the remaining members of the council suggested. Plagg resented Caline for leaving his kitten on Mustafar like that to die, protesting that the transformation would have saved him. 

Perhaps it was cruel to not tell him that Gabriel has survived the accident, but it was possibly crueler to tell him the truth. Plagg put up a bold face, but she knew the truth would break his heart. She knew that he might even seek him out and try to talk some sense into his stray kitten. Herself, and the entire council, had agreed that they couldn’t have that. 

Over the years, Plagg has warmed up to her presence slightly, but that didn’t always keep the heat from Plagg’s cataclysmic eyes, accusing her the most heartless of crimes. 

_My kitten was dying and you tore me away!_

In time, Plagg grew slightly less calloused over the issue, but Caline knew she had to tread lightly. The idea of replacing a kitten never sat well with Plagg whenever he had to do it. This time it felt even more wrong. 

The only reason he considered Caline’s offer was due to the boy’s last name. 

The name Agreste was a double-edged sword for Plagg. While it pointed to years of war on the side of a good guardian, with a warm heart and unique conviction, it also pointed to those last few days of the war, when Gabriel’s heart turned cold and Plagg was betrayed as viciously as Emilie had been. 

“He has passed every test, Plagg. He’s strong. He’s a perfect match.” 

The kwami rested on the table, handing her a face that spoke a sigh. “So was Gabriel.” 

“Adrien’s different,” she told him, offering another piece of cheese, which Plagg refused to her utmost shock. Yet, she continued. “He’s soft-spoken, selfless, and he doesn’t seek out conflict. He has everything Gabriel had but he knows how to hold back. He knows how to put out the flame before he burns down the entire village.” 

“So he’s boring!” Plagg mewled, shooting away with the cheese Caline had left him. 

“Plagg!” she retorted, marching after the kwami. “I’m saying that he has restraint. He has rage and he has the capacity to harness your destructive power and use it effectively, but he knows when to stop.” 

The kwami hardly listened, but she went on. 

“Look, I know you feel that I failed Gabriel.”

“Because you did.” 

“But trust me on this, Adrien is our only hope. Please, go see for yourself. Go test him as I have.” 

The kwami stared away for a moment, thoughtfully eating away at his cheese. Then he sighed loudly, shrinking onto the corner he was nestled in. 

“Fine.” 

'

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* '

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Plagg liked the fiery ones, even if he shouldn’t. The trouble they caused would fill him with pleasure. He was thrilled by the ugly trail of destruction left in their wake. It was as if Plagg was fulfilling the calling of his purpose. It was no wonder that so many of his kittens had fallen in some way. It was no question that the personality capable of harnessing the Cat Miraculous clashed heavily with the personality required to be a Jedi Knight. So often, his holders would either not fit the role and bore the kwami to death, or be influenced to break through the boundaries of the Jedi all together. Plagg always had more fun with the latter, even if their bond was shorter-lived. Most of them didn’t fall dark, but walked away from the Order. He often wondered if the Jedi would give out the Cat just to see if they should trust a Jedi or not. Just to weed out the bad ones early. It came as no shock that none of his holders were well-favored by the higher ranking Jedi Masters. 

The point being, Plagg had to be sure he balanced out his chosen, and the same went for young Adrien. A little too much fire and Plagg may be assisting in a massacre. Not enough fire and Plagg may be bored out of his mind and want nothing more than to leave. 

And then came the issue of the Ladybug. 

It was a common tradition that they chose the Ladybug and the Cat around the same time, to be sure the sides don’t clash but complement each other. Gabriel’s Ladybug had complimented him well, but she had an early departure. Plagg was well aware that her death had been one of the catalysts that had caused Gabriel's fall. She had been like a little sister to him and he had never been the same. 

As for this Adrien character, Plagg had to ignore tradition. Pairing him with a Ladybug would be a hopeful guess this time, but if they didn’t get it right there would be no one to bring the galaxy back in balance. There would be no one left to liberate the Jedi Knights. 

So begrudgingly, he let his body rest on the sill of Adrien’s bedroom window, willing himself to listen and give the kid a chance. 

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Adrien removed his eyes from his sleeping kwami and focused them on the Artoo unit instead. It became easy in all the commotion to forget why he had needed to speak with Laure in the first place. 

However, something still itched at him from Laure’s stories of The Clone Wars and the way she had sadly spoken of the rise of the Empire. And the Jedi knights, such as his father. He couldn’t hold the question back. 

“How did my father die?” 

An uneasy expression passed over her face, and for a moment, she looked like she wouldn't tell him, but just as he let the tension drain from his shoulders, Laure rose her face to speak. 

“A Jedi named Darth Papillion aided the Empire by hunting down and murdering the remaining Jedi Knights,” she told him, her eyes not meeting his. “He betrayed and then murdered your father. “

Adrien looked down, overwhelmed at the thought of his father dying in such a horrible way. He had always assumed, as a dealer of spice, that his father perished in some sort of collision or accident, or killed for failing to pay a debt. Knowing that this Darth Papillion was responsible for targeting his father put the whole loss in a new perspective. He couldn’t help but be filled with fury at the thought. 

“The Jedi are now close to extinct. Papillion, or well known as Lord Hawkmoth…” 

“The Emperor,” Adrien stated, eyes alight with fury. 

“Indeed,” she said, not wishing to spark his anger further but understanding Adrien needed to know the risks of the darkness. “Papillion was seduced by the dark side of the force.” 

“The Force?” Adrien asked. 

She smiled, happy that he asked. “The Force gives the Jedi their power. An energy field created by all living things. It's everywhere. In you and in me. In your friends and family. In Plagg. It surrounds us and penetrates us. It holds the galaxy together.” 

“And the miraculous?” 

“The miraculous were discovered by the Jedi years ago. Most Jedi are not granted a miraculous, but those that are, are giving them for a purpose. While the Force gives power, the Miraculous extend that power. Only the most highly ranked Jedi Guardians possess them. They are meant to keep the force in balance. Such as yours, that harnesses the power of destruction. Another Miraculous is its counterpart, that possesses the power of creation. The two must balance each other out.” 

“But Laure, I’m not a highly ranked Jedi Guardian.” 

She laughed softly, nodding her head in agreement. “Well, perhaps not yet. But allow me to teach you and I’m sure you will do very well. You were chosen, after all.” 

Adrien nodded, about to ask what Laure meant by that when R2D2 interrupted the conversation with a series of chaotic whistles and beeps. 

Laure rose to meet him, kneeling down to look at the droid. “Let’s see if we can figure out what that droid is after and where he came from.” 

Laure had to do very little before the hologram materialized in front of them, showing the girl in all her glory once more. Adrien was once again pulled from his thoughts so that he could focus on the girl in front of him. 

“General Bustier," her smooth voice spoke. "Years ago you served my father in the clone wars. Now he pleads for you to help him in his struggle against the Empire. I regret that I am unable to present my father’s request in person, but my ship has fallen under attack and I’m afraid my mission to bring you to Alderaan has failed. I have placed information vital to the survival of the rebellion into the memory systems of this R2 unit. My father will know how to retrieve it. You must see this droid safely delivered to him on Alderaan. This is our most desperate hour." 

She paused, breaking the steady eye contact she had accomplished thus far. For a moment, you could almost catch the fear in her eyes. 

"Help me, Caline Bustier, you’re my only hope.” 

The image disappeared and Laure sat back thoughtfully, looking at the place where the girl had just been. 

He moved his eyes to see that Laure was looking at him expectantly, containing a bit of light in her tired eyes. 

“You must learn the ways of the Force if you’re going to come with me to Alderaan.” 

“Alderaan?” he asked, incredulous. It was completely out of the question. His uncle would be furious if he followed Laure to a planet that far away from the outer-rim. Or anywhere for that matter. Despite the swell of excitement bursting behind his ribcage he forced himself to shake his head. "I can't go to Alderaan, Laure. I want to come more than anything but I won't leave Tatooine without Etienne's permission. I feel obligated to stay." 

"Your dedication to your family is admirable Adrien, but you aren't a child anymore. You should be free to make your own choices." 

Adrien turned for the door, hiding his face that was clearly betraying his commitment to his aunt and uncle. He wanted nothing more than to run as far as he could with Laure by his side, but he couldn’t help the weight of responsibility. 

“I can’t get involved. I have work to do,” he said sadly “It’s not that I don't want to help. I do! But I'm needed here. I have responsibilities." 

Laure's smile went soft, understanding his dilemma but also picking up on the pressure that was put on him. “That’s your uncle talking.” 

“My uncle...” he said, his mind wandering, mentally preparing himself for the punishment he would get when he returned. “How am I going to explain this?” 

He shook his head, turning on his heel and heading toward the exit, but he couldn't help but offer his assistance. “I can take you as far as Anchorhead. You can get transport there to Mos Eisley.” 

She nodded, solemnly. “Of course, Adrien. I understand." 

Adrien slipped through the orange curtain, suddenly being stopped in his steps by the scent of death in the air. 

  
  


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Bursting out of hyperspace, a large Star Destroyer pierced the black abyss, scraping through the starry black and pointing toward the ominous space station that hovered just in view. Hardly different from a moon with a distant naked eye, but now, as the craft neared the battle station, it became a new cage for the overambitious princess of Alderaan. 

Several floors beyond the princess, there was a conference room filled with pompous authority. Men and women of various levels of roaring hubris defending their individual level of reasoning, attempting to prove that their claims were superior. Some had the utmost faith in the competence of machines and space stations, grasping at the concept of invoking fear. Others cowered and spun, certain the rebels had an advantage, that they may get the upper hand against even his majesty, Lord Hawkmoth. 

Both arguments had Mayura fuming, as she stood at the end of the table, focusing her mind on the approaching Destroyer. Her Lord regarded her telepathically as if asking if he’d have to put up with the same denseness as the times before. Mayura could only send him a sigh, latching her hands behind her back and making an effort to look grave. It took everything in her, including the tightness of her latched fingers, to keep from slamming a few of those verbose simpletons into the already dented barrier. 

Admiral Bourgeois was going off on a tangent when the Emperor strode toward them, crossing his arms at the sight of the tense conference room, frozen still like statues at the new presence. He turned his head toward Mayura, giving her an unreadable expression of ice blue. But she read it perfectly, feeling the weight of his exhaustion, only elated by the turn of events that the Alderaan princess provided for them. 

In a tizzy of fear, a few of the admirals began again to worry about what threat the rebels posed. If perhaps, if they could dissect the plans, they might have an advantage. They might be a threat to the station. 

“The plans will soon be back in our hands,” Lord Hawkmoth said smoothly, “I am quite certain we have the means to get our asset to talk.” 

Bourgeois sat upright, narrowing his eyes at several of his fickle companions. He was known to have a haughty head, often blinded by the power of his station. If Mayura had a say in the matter, she would have obstructed his air supply many long years ago, if not for the Emperor’s requests. 

“Any attack made by the rebels would be useless,” Bourgeois exclaimed, “It shouldn’t matter what they have obtained. This station is now the ultimate power in the universe. I would suggest we use it against their measly cells of rebellion.” 

“Don’t be so proud of this technological terror that you’ve constructed, Admiral,” Hawkmoth said with reproach in his tone. “The ability to destroy a planet is insignificant next to the power of the Force.” 

Admiral Bourgeois seemed as if he might laugh by the smile that came across his lips. His extended time aboard the station without the supervision of neither Mayura nor Emperor Hawkmoth had left him ignorant to the power of his superiors. Mayura had to compose herself to keep from putting a fist around his large neck. 

“Don’t try to frighten us with your sorcery, Lord Hawkmoth. Your pitiful devotion to that ancient religion has not helped you secure the stolen Death Star plans or given you insight enough to find the Alliance’s hidden base-” 

Mayura gasped in delight at the curl of Hawkmoth’s fingers, extended a black glove forward as an invisible hand around the Admiral’s neck. Bourgeois startled, eyes bulging as he reached to pull on his throat, unable to remove the heavy force that pushed it. The other admirals looked down at the sound of choking, biting their own lips in an attempt to keep themselves from the same fate as Bourgeois. Mayura’s only complaint was that the Emperor had decided not to leave the task to her. 

“Your lack of faith is exasperating, Admiral,” he said coldly, letting his hand straighten again. Admiral Bourgeois' face hit the table with a beat, followed by the uneven breath of a daunted child. He heaved, keeping his eyes away from Hawkmoth, already turned away from him, showing nothing but the back of his silver helmet and the amethyst cape that fell down the length of his back. Still not offering Bourgeois an eye, the Dark Lord began walking toward the end of the room. “Learn your place, Admiral. Next time, I won’t be as generous.” 

“This quarrel is pointless,” Mayura said to the rest of the admirals seated. 

Then Hawkmoth spoke. “Lady Mayura will provide us with the location of the rebel fortress by the time this station is fully operational. We will then obliterate the Alliance with one swift stroke.” 

' *

  
  


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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Without the Jedi, there can be no balance in the Force and all will be given over to the Dark Side." -Alan Dean Foster


	9. Chapter Seven: "The Force will be with you"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If you choose to accept what you have been given, if you choose to hold the power of creation, it is impossible for you to do so without being tested. Tests that may bend, or break, and may hurt. Tests that will beg the question of whether you are worthy or not to harness such power.”
> 
> Marinette blinked away her weariness. “Yes, Maman.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I didn't think such pain existed. In any universe."  
> ―Princess Leia, after being tortured by Darth Vader on the Death Star

Something felt wrong. 

It must be the intuition that had always whispered to him in the darkness. Or perhaps something more. The Force, as Laure had called it, held inside his blood and fueling the pounding heart that rumbled at his fear. Or maybe it was just a feeling. But it was a bad feeling. Something was clearly off. 

He passed a hand over his finger, twisting at the silver ring that felt a bit too modern to be paired with his grimy and sweat-soaked robes. Neither his aunt or uncle had ever adorned jewelry, other than that wooden anklet that his aunt would wear on occasion. Some of the kids in school would wear small rocks in their earlobes and he could remember on occasion a few of the girls wearing necklaces made of japor snippets. But the bulky ring on his right ring finger was metallic. It reflected the blue of the lit sky. If the ring was made of silver, he wouldn’t know. Silver and gold were things meant for the rich. Not a farmer in an oversized rag. 

If not for the timely moment when he glanced up and the warning from Artoo behind him, he may not have seen the harrowing image before him. 

Adrien looked down at the sea of corpses, just a heap of Tattoine’s monsters. They had once been the Jawas, just a few hours earlier. But now, like a flashing warning sign, the once formidable monsters were nothing but empty vessels wrapped in their small cloaks. 

They weren’t the monsters who beat him senseless, but the crafty ones. They sold spare parts and droids. And these seemed to be of the same tribe that had negotiated with his uncle just a day ago. It all felt wrong in his gut, at the significance of the Artoo unit treading behind him and the Jawas now dead. There was a connection between the two deeds that he didn’t want to acknowledge. If his mind went there, he felt sick. 

“It was the Sandmonsters,” he said, as Laure came beside him, looking around at the bodies. She began inspecting, with a thoughtful expression passing as she ran a finger over the burnt material. 

“No,” she said, moving to look at another burnt hole caused by blaster fire. “But we are meant to believe that. The tracks are side by side,” she said, pointing to the mark across the dunes. “Sand monsters ride single file to hide their number.” 

Adrien felt dread overwhelm him as he looked closer at the fallen Jawas. “These are the same Jawas that sold my uncle Threepio and Artoo.” 

“These blast points are two accurate for the Sandmonsters. Only imperial stormtroopers are this precise.”

Something didn’t add up. The fear emanating in his body told him enough, and he could see the answer clear as day, but he asked the question. “Why would imperial troopers slaughter Jawas?” 

Laure didn’t answer, a frown sweeping across her face. 

Adrien suddenly felt worse, as if somebody had punched him hard in the stomach. “If they traced the droids here, they may have learned who they sold them to.” His hands shook, pointing his gaze at the darkening night sky. If Imperial troops did this to the people who sold the droids, what would they do to the people who purchased them? “And that would lead them back…” 

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t even allow himself to think about it. 

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There had always been two different ways Adrien would react to fear. 

Most of the time, he had an instinct to take action, whether he was capable or not. He always wished to fight back rather than cower, even if it resulted in a loss. He had a tendency to end up in a state of fight-or-flight, and that's where he found himself, pressed to his speeder, moving at a speed that he hadn't even known was possible. 

The other way he dealt with fear was to not deal with it at all. It wasn't quite hiding, not like when he was small, but it was a state of inactivity. It was him now, standing at the edge of his family's property, unable to process what he was seeing. 

Laure had called after him, warning him of the dangers of running back on his own, even in the safety of his speeder, but he couldn’t listen. He couldn’t stop himself. He had to get back. He had to get back so that he could see his aunt and uncle safe. He needed the sight of his aunt's soft smile and his uncle’s commanding eyes. He wanted to be screamed at. Punished. Rebuked. Anything. Anything that could possibly put the breath back in his lungs. 

  
  


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But he felt nothing as he stood by his homestead, stopping the speeder and staring blankly for a good moment. The billowing black smoke in his eyes tore him away from the sight before him. His home, underneath a cloud of black, heavy air, and a dead scent. Home was no longer home. He couldn’t breathe, but his legs were moving, and he was walking into the fog, letting the smoke burn his eyes. 

He felt nauseous as he stood by the front opening, unable to recognize the two corpses that were now just skeletal, lifeless creatures in his walkway. He couldn’t make the connection. He couldn’t make it a concept. He just couldn’t believe it. 

But then, at the sight of Laure approaching, with the two droids riding behind her, he felt it. The realization. The _oh_ , hollowly climbing up his throat, bursting through his chest as he felt his knees sag into the sand. For a moment, the flames that were now ghostly on their bones raged inside his hands, as he slammed them into pits of sand, with teeth clenched to restrain the noise shooting from his lips. Tears stung on his cheeks, scraping at his chin, and ridiculing him. 

But he swallowed it down, forcing himself to his feet as his gaze passed over the corpses, as rage built up in his chest. If the Empire was responsible for this. If the Empire was asking for him to rage against it, then he would, without doubt, be following Laure into the danger. He would run right toward the Empire, cataclysm ready, and he would make them pay. 

  
  


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Sabine had been wise enough to offer a warning, even before Marinette was old enough to fear it, that there may be a time when her resistance would be tested. Whether that be her morals, her loyalties, or her pain tolerance. Sabine had been clear that it would not be easy, but it would be important that she have the strength to resist. 

“If you choose to accept what you have been given, if you choose to hold the power of creation, it is impossible for you to do so without being tested. Tests that may bend, or break, and may hurt. Tests that will beg the question of whether you are worthy or not to harness such power.”

Marinette blinked away her weariness. “Yes, Maman.” 

“I tell you this because I know how difficult it can be. I want to prepare you.” 

Sabine took her daughter's hand, leading her to the edge of the terrace where it overlooked the gardens. The wind was soft on her bare skin, sending ribbons of purple fabric floating behind her. It was feather-soft, like her upbringing, perhaps making the thought of anything less than, seem hard to imagine. 

“Will I be tortured?” 

“You will be their greatest threat,” she responded, cupping her daughter's face with fingers too calloused for royalty. “I hate to imagine it. But if you choose this path, I can’t promise safety. I can only promise this.” 

“What?” 

“That the Force will be with you.” 

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It was easy to grasp faith without a chance to test it. Wide-eyed trust felt free when she was sixteen, but the gradual tension in her shoulders, and the unthinkable possibilities of her fate, were enough to rock her sturdy grasp on the whole thing. 

_The Force will be with me_ , she whispered, allowing her senses to breathe. She reached out with a shaky palm, feeling the cold wind of Mayura, and the impending pressure on her ribcage, poking at the bravery of her heart. Silencing the steady voice of her mother, urging her to resist the pain, encouraging her to trust. 

She swallowed hard, knowing Lady Mayura was near, accompanied by several officers and a lethal IT-O interrogator droid. Her methods, and the methods of such droids, were things she had only heard of from fellow rebels. But many spared little detail, and most never lived to tell the story. She had always avoided their accounts anyway, living in a constant state of denial that she would ever be captured in the Empire’s claws. 

She heaved another breath, whispering, “The Force is with me,” again, as the cell door slid open. Mayura already looked sadistic, with a pretty glint in her eye that broke the dullness of her usual stoic expression. With the confident click of the lady’s boots, Marinette could only interpret that glint as excitement. 

Her officers followed her, circling around the Princess as if they were to all take part in devouring their prey. But Mayura stood ahead of them, stepping closer to Marinette than comfort with her usual accusatory expression. 

“Now, Your Highness, we will discuss the location of your hidden rebel base.” 

Marinette did not flinch under Mayura’s intense stare, but her eyes shifted to the two hovering droids that emerged behind her. They were black domes, humming dauntingly, extending several needle-like objects out of their vibrating cores. She tore her eyes away from them, trying to ignore it altogether. Giving in to her fear would not keep her safe. It would only make her weak. 

She shut her eyes, only flinching for a moment when she felt the needle prick her skin. 

“There are two ways this can go, Princess,” one of the officers said proudly. “The easy way or the hard way.” 

_Truth serum_ , she mused, feeling the cold substance flow beneath her skin. She had heard from several reports that Kaminoan scientists had developed a foolproof serum back during the clone wars, and to the Emperor’s demands, the serum had been improved significantly. Marinette knew about the one-hundred percent success ratio. She was well aware that the Empire hardly walked away without breaking their prisoners. To the Empire, she would become just another statistic. 

Marinette took a deep breath, leaning into the soft presence of the light. Despite the rigidness of her folded hands and rapid jittering of her knees, she could feel relief at the power beneath her skin. She knew well what her mother had taught her. She knew well that the Force was stronger than any truth serum. Even Mayura knew that. 

Luckily for Marinette, Mayura didn’t know that she was powerful. She didn’t know that she didn’t fit in with the other statistics. 

Of course, it wasn’t easy. She could feel her mind going cloudy and the lure to feed Mayura information. She almost looked softer with the veil of the serum, almost innocent, beneath her cold eyes. A part of Marinette wanted to give it to her. She wanted to help the Empire. The Empire didn’t quite feel evil at the moment. The serum didn’t feel bad. It felt nice. It felt like her truest self. To open up and speak. To rid herself from the lies that she was raised to tell. 

_The Force is with me_ , she said to herself, shifting where she sat. And she had people to protect. 

“You have a lot of resistance, Princess,” Mayura commented, scrutinizing her. A new idea seemed to bleed into her eyes as she neared the Princess. “Very few people can hold on this long.” 

Marinette forced a confident glare, trying not to worry about the suspicion in Mayura’s voice. It would do her no good to reveal herself as one of the last remaining Force-sensitives. But it would be far worse if she had held onto her Miraculous. For that she was grateful. 

“You’re peculiar,” the woman said with a satisfied edge. “You’re not what I expected.” 

Mayura shifted, throwing back her feathery cape and confiding in the officers around her. Marinette could feel the gears turning inside her brain, putting the pieces together. 

“Leave us,” Mayura said darkly, keeping her eyes fixed on the girl as her companions and the IT-O filled out. The realization in her voice caused Marinette to flinch, allowing her eyes to peer open a bit. 

Marinette wanted to challenge her. She wanted to taunt her by pretending that nothing Mayura did would hurt her. But the fear burning inside her stomach said otherwise. She felt like she might throw up when Mayura kneeled down to her level, cupping her face. 

“I remember now. Master Sabine Cheng. Always a thorn in the Empire’s side. Always with another trick up her sleeve. We should have been more wary of her.” 

Marinette smirked. “You got that right.” 

“She had such wisdom, Cheng. She was one of the only Jedi who were smart enough to walk away from the Order before they turned dark.” 

“Lies!” Marinette spit, exasperated by the false narrative. She had read the history books. She had heard the news. But her mother was Master Sabine Cheng of the Jedi Order and General of the Galactic Republic. She knew first hand what distortion the Empire had cooked up. Their blatant disregard for truth caused something to light up in the pit of her stomach and fill her with rage that she would let fester if her mother hadn't taught her to control it. 

Mayura disregarded her outburst, letting a blue-tinted hand hover off Marinette's head. “It causes me to wonder what the Jedi might have done with those ancient jewels. If I remember correctly, Sabine possessed the dragon choker, did she not?” 

Marinette just seethed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, you do, love. I can feel your certainty. But all of this makes me consider, do you know what happened to the most powerful jewels, the perfect balance of creation and destruction?” 

“Again, I don’t know what you are talking about. Talk of these ancient jewels happens to elude me.” 

Mayura reached forward, holding her palm like a claw above Marinette’s head, clenching her eyes. Marinette felt the dark power hover over her, and the startling bend of her mind at her touch. “My dear Princess, I should have done this much sooner. I could create so many monsters with the rage that you possess.” 

Marinette choked on her breath, heaving at the chance to resist Mayura’s pull. But she couldn't breathe. She couldn’t think. The only thing that she could understand―

Pain. 

She heaved. 

More pain. 

She felt like her body was curling in on itself. She couldn’t even feel it. She could only feel her mind turning, trembling somehow underneath the pull of Mayura’s fingertips. It felt as if she was attempting to remove the organ from her skull. 

“Someday I will make a monster out of your fear. And don’t doubt me, Princess, that monster will destroy your puny rebellion before they see it coming.” 

Marinette couldn’t hear her. She just clashed with the wall, clenching her fists at the tighter squeeze of Mayura’s grip on her mind. 

Pain. 

More pain. 

_Stop it,_ she wanted to scream. _Stop it_ , she thought again as if Mayura may listen. 

“No, dear. I won’t stop. Not until you answer these three questions for me.” 

Marinette gasped, jolting forward as Mayura held her face, making sure to get her questions across clearly. 

“First, you’re going to tell me where the rebel base is. Then, where did you send those plans? And finally, where can I find the Ladybug and the Cat miraculous?” 

Marinette just grimaced. 

“I’m being nice, Princess. I’m letting you prepare your answers.” 

More pain came as Mayura closed her fist. 

“You will get no answers,” Marinette muttered, clasping the edge of her seat as Mayura pushed further. Beads of sweat were heavy on her forehead, and her eyebrows twisted in a pained grimace, but she didn’t drop her determination, held sturdy by her teeth biting down on her lip. She shivered at Mayura’s touch again, but she remained determined. “You will get nothing from me.” 

  
  


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' *

  
  


Laure stood beside him as their gaze fell on the funeral pyre, with the unrecognizable bodies of his Aunt and Uncle. 

It still felt like a strange awful dream. But it was familiar, and it reminded Adrien of the nightmares he used to have when he was little. 

Adrien found it difficult to look and turned away from the pyre, twisting the ring on his finger with a blank stare. He didn't want to address the burning flesh. He didn't want to address the destruction of his childhood home. 

But he understood now that there was nothing for him on Tatooine, so going with Laure to make the Empire pay seemed like the only clear path. 

"Adrien," she said softly, meeting him in the sand where he gripped his knees close to his chest. "Please know there is nothing you could have done if you were here. You would have died too. Don't ever blame yourself." 

And even worse, the droids would be in the hands of the Empire, and the princess would be in even more danger. 

Adrien didn't say anything for a while, not wanting to think about what Laure was saying. "I want to come with you to Alderaan," he said simply. "There's nothing here for me now." 

"Alright," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder. 

"I want to learn about the Force and become a Jedi Knight like my father." 

There was nothing more for Laure to say, so she led Adrien to the speeder with the Gorilla following behind them both. 

  
  


* . * . , *

. . . *

* . .' * , . . , *

. * .'

' . . * * .'.

. ' ' . . ' .

. * , * ' *

.

* . *

  
  


Princess Marinette could feel the seething rage of Lady Mayura burning, like a wave of blisteringly hot air on her skin. Mayura was an expert at pain, and the Princess could still feel the ache of her steel grip, putting pressure on her now fragile brain. 

But besides that ache, Marinette had a smirk on her face, because she had won, and Mayura knew nothing. 

Mayura's rage brought delight to the princess. 

But still, she was exhausted, sinking back into the corner of the cell, resting her heaving body on its borders. She reached toward her waist, momentarily forgetting the lack of her kwami, there to encourage her despite her exhaustion. 

But it was okay. The force was with her. She would see Tikki again soon.

  
  


* '*

*

*

*

*

*

  
  


“My Lord,” Mayura said, kneeling at his chamber, hands shaking under her long sleeves. The cold rush of Hawkmoth’s opening door was enough to turn her stomach. There had always been a balance of unwavering adoration and a crippling fear that became of her at the thought of her Lord. 

He stepped toward her so that his boots met her line of view. She could feel the flutter of the fleet of pale butterflies swirling behind him, but he wasn’t transformed. Though she would never say it, if she looked up, she would still associate his face with the man she knew from the wars. Brave and ambitious, selfless and determined, the hero of the war, the Jedi that had a heart. In the mind of Mayura, all of these things still remained true. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind, My Lady.” 

“The Princess, she’s more than what I suspected. I have every reason to believe that she inherited midi-chlorians from her mother. She is Force-sensitive.” 

“Cheng,” Hawkmoth said bitterly. “Sabine Cheng.” 

“You once admired the woman,” she said softly. 

His breath hitched and his rage surrounded him. “And you know very well that what I once was is irrelevant. She was once a Jedi. The Jedi are the enemy of the Sith.” 

“Yes, my Lord.” 

“Don’t you dare forget that.” 

“Of course not, my Lord.” 

“What else?” he said, facing the other direction. The light fabric of his coat nearly pressed against her cheek. 

“She wouldn’t say, but deep in her mind, I believe I saw it. She knows. She knows about the Miraculous. The ones you’ve been searching for.” 

Hawkmoth turned to face her and suddenly his eyes were directly before her face and his hand was pushed firmly to her cheek. “Good work, Lady Mayura. I might just have to speak to this Princess myself.” 

“Indeed,” Mayura said, with her smile growing wicked. “If anyone can break her, you can." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't get over that only like 3 days have passed in this story.


	10. Chapter 8: “What do you know of Akuma, child?”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Despite your fear and your doubt, you are strong. Even now, princess, I can feel your unquenched desire for justice. And it manifests into your hatred. Hatred for me, for this great Empire, for your failed attempts at stopping us.” If not for his eyes, he sounded sympathetic. “Rage is simple. Such easy prey for my Akuma.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My ally is the Force, and a powerful ally it is." -Master Yoda

Her brain still felt wide open, like Mayura had torn out a piece and left the hole uncovered, bleeding and letting her sanity spill out. She felt unstable in a way she hadn’t earlier, even when Mayura had been hurting her. Now she felt like she was floating, out of her body, just watching from somewhere. Like the whole world was turning in reverse and she was fluttering back home. 

And then, with a gasp, she burst through her daydream and felt blinding hot pain at the sight of Hawkmoth before her. 

He was different than she had expected. The long cape of royal purple, the silver glint of his helmet, and towering stature were all things she had heard. But unlike the tails of childhood nightmares, he had no respirator pushing oxygen into his lungs. The little bit of face she was exposed to only had a few marks, but mostly, he looked normal. He looked like a person. He looked like a person she might have met. The only difference was the hungry, horrible, demented coldness in his bluish-grey eyes. 

She crossed her arms, running her hand over a heavy weight on her arm, where she swore she felt another prick of sharpness touch. 

“Princess,” he said simply, but his voice was powerful. It shook Marinette’s anxious body, causing her to startle at his heavy steps. “It’s time to see if Mayura’s findings hold truth.” 

'

* .

* '

* *

Adrien sat numbly beside Laure, letting his thoughts wander as the speeder carried them into Mos Eisley. He had been to the city a few times when he was younger but he knew to stay away. His Uncle had always warned him to keep his distance, to step back and keep himself from being taunted by the darkness of the city. 

But Adrien knew enough from the other children. Mos Eisley was overrun by crime lords, bounty hunters, and smugglers. The kind of people he had once assumed his father had been associated with. He had even considered investigating the ways of the credit hungry vipers to get a glimpse of the life of his absent father, but he had always been too cautious. He had always preferred to keep his hands clean and play the long game. He couldn’t even imagine entertaining life of crime. 

What Adrien hadn’t realized when he was younger, and perhaps it was different at the time, was that Stormtroopers littered the streets. Squadrons of white armor flanked their passing speeder, with black unseeing eyes and steady blasters pointed at the ongoing traffic. 

There was no doubt in Laure’s mind that the Empire was on high alert due to the missing droids that contained the Death Star plans. That, and the message from the Princess. Adrien knew more than anyone how desperate the Empire had been for those plans, reminded by the bloodstains on his fingers and the soot that clung to his pants. 

“Don’t blame yourself,” Laure had told him, helping him pack up some supplies for their journey. “There was nothing you could have done.” 

Adrien shook his head, sure that she was wrong. He could have done something. He could have transformed with Plagg and used his power to stop it. There must have been a way. There must have been a way to prevent such a loss. “It is my fault,” he responded, walking tentatively into his old bedroom. 

He didn’t own many possessions, not like some of his friends did. Fancy gadgets and fine jewels were rare and priceless. Adrien had drawers full of old tech, long lost data, and full journals. The bag he was stuffing only contained one half full notebook and the holoprojector that had the recording of Ladybug. He ended up stuffing it with the blanket from his bed and an extra pair of clothing. Nothing else seemed quite important and Adrien didn’t want to remain in the smokey home longer than he needed to. 

The weight of the smoke still filled his breath now as they approached the line of troopers, looking accusatory even before the Artoo unit came into view. 

“So they aren’t real?” Adrien asked, making eye contact with the black emptiness of one of the helmets. 

Laure shook her head, letting some of her auburn hair shield her features. “They are real,” she told him, tightening her grip on the Speeder handle. “They just aren’t born like you or me. They were simply created in the same way the Gorilla was.” 

“Sentimonsters,” he said, not sure if that should make him more or less afraid of them. 

“Your mother chose to give The Gorilla a soul, however. Outside of his unwavering goal to look after you, The Gorilla has freewill. Lady Mayura has not given that luxury to the Stormtroopers.” 

“So they’re mindless?” 

“They live to serve the Empire.” 

They were stopped suddenly by a small group of six troopers, holding up a datapad displaying the very droids that were positioned in the back of their speeder. Adrien couldn’t breathe, unable to even imagine what the consequences would be for already being caught with Rebel droids before they even entered the city, but Laure seemed eerily calm beside him. 

“How long have you had these droids?” the trooper asked them, placing an armored hand over the top of the silver dome. 

Adrien swallowed, knowing that lying had never been his strength, but he had been capable when a lie was needed. A person had to if they wanted to survive on Tatooine. Still, lying to common criminals versus the oppressive government that had murdered his family were two different things. But still, Plagg, deep inside his pocket peered upward, giving him an encouraging nod. “About three or four seasons,” he said simply, shrugging casually, glancing at Laure who nodded in approval. 

“They’re for sale if you’re interested,” she added, affectionately patting the top of R2’s top. 

The highest-ranking trooper simply shook his head. “Let me see some identification.” 

That was where they would catch them, Adrien knew, but he could still feel Laure beside him with her emotions perfectly controlled, and an easiness rolling off her like cool water. He couldn’t help but cling onto it, allowing the free Force to flood his veins as well. 

He saw her hand rise slightly beside him, reaching out to touch something invisible in the air. Adrien could feel a soft hum vibrating somewhere in the air, like shifting light, moving the flow of the universe into a better direction. Her voice was firm, as she spoke, her hand circling in front of the Trooper’s eye line. “You don’t need to see his identification.” 

There was a quiet pause and Adrien almost panicked, but then the trooper seemed to understand what Laure was saying, and echoed back, “We don’t need to see his identification.” 

“These aren’t the droids you're looking for,” she said, raising her fingers again. 

Quicker this time, the trooper responded. “These aren’t the droids we’re looking for.” 

Adrien’s eyes met Laure’s and he caught a sly smile forming across her face. Clearly, she had bent the sentimonster’s mind somehow. Adrien hoped she would explain all of this later. This was surely something that he was curious about. 

“He can go about his business,” she continued. 

“You can go about your business.” 

She sat up in her seat, looking confident. Looking younger. “Move along.” 

“Move along, move along,” the trooper ordered, motioning his hand to tell them to go. 

This gave them a smooth trek to the inner city, to the very heart of Mos Eisley. The Gorilla met up with them there, at an empty space in front of Mos Eisley's Cantina, wordlessly leading the way through the open doorway. 

* '*

*

*

*

*

*

  
  


She was strapped down to a long chair, meant for men much taller and broader than herself. Metal straps held her tight, burning on her arms and causing her chest to heave relentlessly. She could deal with small spaces but she hated being confined. 

“What do you know of Akuma, child?” 

Marinette pushed her head back, keeping her eyes fixed on the sea of white above her, strange and vibrating, shifting with each blink of her eyes. Whatever was above her, it was very much alive. She flicked her chin away from him, showing him nothing but her cheek. “Enough.” 

“If you are indeed a well trained Force sensitive, especially a miraculous holder, you will have no trouble resisting the lure of my akuma. Your mind is sharp, Mayura has told me. Akuma will have trouble evilizing a girl with such power and such determination. If they stay clear of you, the answer will be clear.” 

Marinette swallowed, glancing up again at the moving ceiling, cursing under her breath at the swishing movement. Butterflies. His ceiling was made of butterflies. 

“If you prove to be powerless, they will consume you. I will have a strong ally. Either way, I win this battle.” 

Marinette couldn’t help but agree with him, but she still kept her eyes coldly forced to the wall. 

She could feel the butterfly hover over her, delicate and free, dancing around the metallic room. It studied Marinette for a moment, daring to land on her finger, hopping gracefully into the darkness of the room. It found its way to Hawkmoth’s gloved hand, being lured by the dark magick. The dark magick Marinette had always considered a rumor up till this day, when the evidence was right before her. The butterfly allowed him to wrap his palm around the creature and distort it. 

“Yes,” Hawkmoth said with delight, nearing the princess as the insect fluttered around him, mimicking the sickness in his trained eyes. Cold leather pressed to the side of her cheek as he studied her, producing an insane smile as he looked deep into her eyes. “Despite your fear and your doubt, you are strong. Even now, princess, I can feel your unquenched desire for justice. And it manifests into your hatred. Hatred for me, for this great Empire, for your failed attempts at stopping us.” If not for his eyes, he sounded sympathetic. “Rage is simple. Such easy prey for my akuma.” 

The butterfly didn’t hesitate to land into his palm, bathing itself in the inky black of hatred, willingly giving itself over to the magick. “Go on my little akuma, and evilize her vengeful heart.” 

Marinette had to clench her teeth at the sight of the shadowy wings, shooting toward her faster than she could catch her breath. It just lingered there, like a fine prize, like a sweet scent that she wanted to taste. It was like the truth serum almost. It felt wrong, and heavy, but it felt nice, in a way, to almost be free. 

But the rules didn’t change. She had a heavy weight on her back to protect and she wouldn’t give into her flesh and sacrifice it. There was too much riding on her. No matter the cost, she needed to resist. 

She forced her mind to remember Tikki, and her warnings. How the akuma could only infect her if she felt like there wasn’t a way out. How if she could convince herself that she didn’t need it, then perhaps, the akuma would lose interest and fly right back to Hawkmoth. The only risk was that she would be revealed to the Empire as one of the last remaining force-sensitives. 

  
  


* . . * * . . . * ..

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*. * . * * * .

* * . * . . * .

. .. * . * . .. *

* * . * *

  
  


“I thought we were dead for sure,” Adrien said, shrugging off the fabric from his shoulders, digging his fingers into his deep pockets. They were standing in the entrance of the Mos Eisley Cantina, and Adrien couldn't shake away the feeling that every eye was glued to him, sizing him up, wondering why a boy such as himself had dared to step of foot in this part of town. He would have been more nervous if not for Laure's casual grace. 

“The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded," she said simply, as if taking the reigns of someone's mind was simple. But what she said made sense if those troopers were no more than mindless servants. If the power existed with her, it must take little effort to bend their minds. 

“Do you think we’re going to find a pilot here that can take us to Alderaan?” 

“Perhaps not, but we don’t need a pilot. We only need a ship. With a high enough price, any ship can be attainable. I’ve been saving for a day such as this. It shouldn’t take long. But Adrien, watch your step. This place can be a bit rough.” 

He knew of this cantina well. Nino had worked a few nights there and had told Adrien many stories. 

  
  


* . * . , *

. . . *

* . .' * , . . , *

. * .'

' . . * * .'.

_ Guard your mind. Trust in yourself. Trust in the Force.. _

Long hours of training would do her good to remember now.

The butterfly hovered over her for quite some time with unveiled interest, bent to the narrow minded determination of Hawkmoth and the ice cold pull of dark magick. It drew closer, peering over Marinette invasively, smothering her confidence and leaving her teeth clenched and confidence strung out. Still, she had to keep going. She had to keep resisting. 

She feared what would happen if a Force sensitive, or worse, a Miraculous holder, were to be akumatized. It had happened, of course. Rumors had proven true that Hawkmoth had akumatized Mayura many times to boost her power. There were whole armies of akuma that seemed a bit too powerful to be ordinary citizens. But really, if she were to be akumatized, she would be close to undefeatable. The possibility of attacking her family or the rebellion caused a shiver to go down her spine. 

She forced her eyes to narrow and her jaw to stay steady, making eye contact with the insect. 

This was it. This was where she would seal her fate. 

Protect her people while putting herself in the gravest danger. 

She breathed heavy, letting the Force fill her with power, and offer the serenity she would need to turn turn the insect away. It took all of her training, and all of her heart, and all of her soul, and every last bit of physical and emotional strength to do it but with one final breath she watched the black butterfly lose interest in her, and Lord Hawkmoth's eyes go mad with delight. 

. ' * . . '

. * * -+- 

. * . ' *

* . ' . . 

* * . .

' *

  
  


“Maman,” she whispered, wrapping herself in the silky fabric of her robe, clutching her fingers together as she leaned against the hallway wall. “Maman, are you awake?” 

After a few moments of silence, Marinette heard the door creek slightly, and a stream of golden light flash over the darkened hallway. “Marinette, what is it?” 

“I…” she began, biting down hard on her lip. “I can’t stop thinking about what would happen if the Empire ever found out about me.” 

Sabine grimaced, not wanting to think about it either. It was the reason there were many sleepless nights for herself, and for Thomas. She hardly wanted her young daughter to be thinking about it too. “You’re safe here.” 

“For now,” Marinette said simply. “But someday…” 

“Someday is very far off.” 

Marinette shook her head. “Maybe not. Maybe the dreams mean something.” 

“Dreams?”

“Dreams,” Marinette said simply. “I keep dreaming that I die at the hands of Hawkmoth.” 

Sabine frowned, but came to her daughter's side with rage for the Empire boiling beneath her skin. 

“What would happen, if the Empire found out I have the Force? Don’t sugarcoat it. Just tell me the truth.” 

Sabine almost didn’t say anything, but she knew her daughter well. She knew that if she didn’t give her an answer, honest and blunt, Marinette would never let it go. It was best just to put it out in the open. And deep down, Marinette already knew what the answer would be. This was just a harsh confirmation. 

“They will try to turn you, and if they can’t turn you, they will kill you.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Emperor has foreseen a new threat rising against him: the children of the Force. They must not become Jedi."  
> "Yes, Lord Vader."  
> "Hunt down this new enemy, and if they will not serve the Empire, eliminate them along with any surviving Jedi who would train them. This is my master's command."  
> ―Darth Vader and the Grand Inquisitor

**Author's Note:**

> The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins---  
> But in the heart of its strength lies weakness:  
> One lone candle is enough to hold it back.  
> Love is more than a candle.  
> Love can ignite the stars.  
> Revenge of the Sith Novelization, Matthew Stover, 2005.


End file.
